


Nameless

by Casangelofthefreakinglordnovak



Series: Destiel [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Author!Castiel, But Sams a cutie, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Probable smut at some point, mechanic!Dean, shit ton of anger at each other, they're both assholes at the start
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:09:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9468734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casangelofthefreakinglordnovak/pseuds/Casangelofthefreakinglordnovak
Summary: What happens when Dean Winchester, a simple mechanic from Kansas, meets Castiel Novak, the newest best selling author in New York. Do they become friends? Share stories and beers? Or are shirts ruined by coffee and doors smacked into heads with a mutter of 'asshole' afterwards?Who knows.





	1. Chapter one

Castiel wasn’t entirely sure how he felt as he walked towards the sleek black limousine parked on the kerb in front of his loft apartment. He’d never been driven anywhere in his life, unless it was by Gabriel to his favourite coffee shop in the afternoon after an all-nighter. Especially not in as fancy a car as the limo in front of him. The driver steps out of the car and opens Castiel’s door for him, the man blushing brightly as he bends to slide across the soft plush leather, the seat morphing to his posture. Gabriel follows after him, thanking the driver quietly before they’re alone. Castiel looks around the dimly lit interior, eyeing the champagne glasses and mini fridge. “Don’t you think this is a little excessive?” He asks, frowning when Gabriel clicks a button and the lights begin what can only be described as a rave. “Nope. You’re a best-selling author now Castiel. You need to get used to a few luxuries.” He happily lifts the peanuts sitting on the small counter by his feet, relaxing back. Gabriel looks over at his brother who’s sitting stiffly beside him, hands clasped in his lap. “Relax Cassy. We have an hour’s drive, and we’ve earned this.”

Castiel frowns, looking away from the peanuts outside the tinted windows. His first book singing as a number one best-selling author. He hadn’t expected to ever make it this far. His teachers had never had much faith in his writing skills when he was in school, except from Mr Tran, his English teacher. He’d always believed that Castiel would go places. That place seemed to be New York City, to a loft apartment on 6th street with his brother where he spends every day sitting in front of the large window overlooking a small park opposite, typing away on his laptop while his brother would travel and direct music videos. It left Castiel alone quite a lot, though he didn’t seem to mind the silence. There would be a few days when he would stay in bed, clutching one of his brother’s jumpers to his chest with Gabriel’s name on his lips. They had grown up in a silent household. Their mother exceedingly religious and always ordering her children to be silent. “Children should be seen, not heard.” She would always say. Castiel had listened, too frightened to speak out unlike his brothers. He hadn’t seen their mother in years, and yet he was still a silent man. Perhaps he just preferred to think in silence, watch the world go by and take it all in; but even Castiel didn’t know the truth. 

He’s drawn from his memories by a tap to the shoulder, Gabriel smiling at him gently. “Hey. Don’t get lost. Need my brother here today.” Castiel nods, pinching his nose as he comes back to himself. “Sorry. Just nervous.” “I know. But it’s a small book store, won’t be that many people.” “If you’re sure.” “I am. And I’m going to be by your side all day.” The limo pulls to a stop, Castiel glancing out of the window to watch the world go by. He tries to focus on the gentle music playing from the speaker behind his head, tune out the crunching of his brother eating the peanuts. Unfortunately, Castiel can’t stop the small scream of fright when a hand suddenly slaps against one of the windows, a scream of his name following it. “Gabriel.” “Shit. They told me there’d be security here.” Gabriel mutters, looking out his own window. Sliding it down, he waves to the two guards standing beside a woman in front of the store. “Hey! Can you clear a path here? Come out this side.” Castiel slides across the seats, ducking his head as he follows Gabriel out of the car, inwardly wincing at the screams that sound to his sides. 

Once he’s in the quiet sanctuary of the store, he relaxes enough to shake the woman’s hand. “Mr Novak, it’s a pleasure to have you here today.” She says, voice somewhat nasally. “Pleasure to be here.” She giggles, as though the four words he’s spoken were the Holy Grail. With a small smile, the woman turns and leads them further into the store. “We’ve set up the table as you have requested. Your fountain pen is next to your own copy of your book, and a table has been set up to the side for the fans to buy their copy if they don’t own one already.” She gestures towards the table as she talks, Castiel huffing quietly. He despised book signings; especially the hosts mainly because they believed that by offering horrible coffee and a smile that they were the nicest people on the planet and better than every other book signing Castiel has ever attended. “Thank you very much. This is perfect. Do you perhaps have a bathroom I can use to freshen up?” “Of course! Just take a left around that book shelf and you’ll see it.” 

With a curt nod and a look shot at Gabriel, Castiel excuses himself and disappears into the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face, he sighs and debates leaving through the back door, returning to his home and settling on the couch to binge some more Great British Bake Off. He knows that isn’t possible. Not with the publicity this is going to give him, his publisher ensuring him that his sales will sky rocket just from this one appearance alone. In truth, Castiel didn’t care about the sales, or the money, or his ‘celebrity’ status. All he cared about was writing and hoping that it becomes something people will enjoy. 

Groaning loudly, he pats down his constant-sex hair and tugs on the base of his sweater before deciding that it was time. Stepping out, he glances at the books as he walks past, the incessant screaming of the fans at the door starting to worry him. Gabriel looks up from his phone. “Hey brother. Ready?” Castiel nods, settling behind the table in the far too uncomfortable chair and gets ready. “Yup. Bring them in.” 

~~~~~~

Dean can’t believe he ever agreed to this. Can’t understand why he allowed his little brother to order him to bed before midnight, only to be woken at seven am by an eighteen year old puppy-human hybrid jumping on his bed. “Sam! For the love of god!” “I brought coffee.” Sam announces, plonking a mug down on Dean’s cluttered beside cabinet. “I don’t care. It’s seven o’clock in the fucking morning.” “And?” “The signing isn’t until twelve!” Sam laughs, bounces for the added effect of watching Dean huff and jostle under the covers, narrowly avoiding a pillow to face. “Get off. I need to shower.” Sam slides off of the bed, whooping as he walks into the living room. With a groan and a slurp of the coffee hot enough to burn his taste buds clean off, Dean stands and walks into his en-suite; stripping and stepping under the warm spray of his shower. 

Dean wasn’t an avid reader, the most he reads a week is the diner menu down the road, and even then he doesn’t really need to, he knows it off by heart. In truth, Dean didn’t mind doing this for his little brother. Hell, Dean would jump off a damned cliff if Sam asked him to. And Sam knew it. Dean was positive he uses it to his advantage. Finds the things Dean hates most in the world, begs him to go and then turns his big hazel puppy dog eyes on him and Dean’s screwed. Dean is then dragged along to book signings, lectures and the frickin’ opera once. Sam still owes him for that one. 

Once he’s dressed in his usual fifteen layers, Dean steps out of his bedroom to the stench of smoke. That’s quickly followed by the fire alarm. “Sammy?!” “Dean! Fuck! I don’t know what I did!” “Take the fucking pan off the heat!” Dean snaps, smacking down flames in their small kitchen with a tea-towel. The windows are cracked, pan and spatula thrown into the sink. “Dude! What the hell??” “I was trying to make eggs!” “How the hell do you set fire to eggs?” “I don’t know!” “Jesus Christ. Just sit down. I’ll make breakfast.” Sam slumps into one of the chairs at their rather small dining table, leaning against the bright blue wall that he had requested the colour of. 

“So this author thing, why are we going to it again?” “Because he’s one of my favourite authors Dean. I know you don’t get it because you don’t read, but he’s great.” “You say that about every author.” “Shut the hell up. Tell me your favourite author then.” Dean lets out a long suffering exhale, staring down at the fresh eggs he’s now in the process of scrambling. “Exactly. His books are just great. And his new one? Fuck. Best thing I’ve read all year.” “Only thing you’ve read this year.” Dean mutters, dishing the eggs out and glancing at the clock. Two hours. “Against the point.” Sam pouts, slurping his now cold coffee. “He just has this way with words. Really draws you in. I think even you’d like him.” “Hard pass. I’m good.” “You could at least give him a try.” “Nope.” 

~~~~~~

“You sure it’s on this street Sam? I don’t see anyone.” They had been driving for nearly an hour now, after Sam gave him the wrong address twice and the sudden, unexpected detour thanks to roadworks. Dean was starting to get pissed. He loved driving, especially in his baby, but just not around the same 4 streets in New York. Sam huffs and crosses his arm, the usual resting bitch face making an appearance. “Fuckin’ finally! Geez.” Dean mutters, slowing to avoid the crowd of chaotic fans crossing the street. After spending a further ten minutes managing to find a parking space, Sam barrels out of the car and sprints into the store, copy of the guys book under his arm. Dean laughs at his brothers antics, following him and trying exceptionally hard not to touch the far too overly excited fans. It was just an author for God’s sake. He pushes through the crowd and searches for his brother amongst the women, a few men scattered throughout. “Sammy!” “Here Dean!” “Okay! I’m gonna be over here!” “’Kay!” 

Dean slumps back against one of the bookshelves, fumbling with his keys in his pocket. He spots the sign by the door. So this guy was giving a reading, then a signing and finally a Q&A. Great. Sam owed him so fucking much. Grabbing a cup of the usual crappy coffee that Dean’s now used to at these things, he sits down in an extra chair and closes his eyes. Might as well catch up on missed sleep.

~~~~~~

Castiel cracks his knuckles and frowns. The reading had gone exceptionally well, he had made it without a single stutter and was greeted with a rather loud round of applause at the end. He had decided to move the Q&A before the signing; more interested in getting home to relax and write than listen to the same questions he always gets. “What’s your inspiration?” “When’s your next book?” “Are the romances in the novel inspired by your own?” Castiel hates the last one the most. He’s embarrassed to admit that he’s never truly been in a relationship, and his two week relationship between a girl named Meg and himself, he didn’t really count. It hadn’t been real, and Castiel can only remember the two conversations they’d had through the entire thing. He didn’t think about it very often. 

He had been signing books for nearly an hour now, and had only made it a third of the way through the line. He glances up at Gabriel, silently asking to take a break. “Okay everyone. We’re just going to take a couple minutes break if that’s okay. Mr Novak needs a breather.” Gabriel smiles and ushers them away. Castiel is glad for the chance to breathe, soothe his cheeks from the constant smile and stretch his legs. Even if it’s just going for horrendous coffee. Along the way he muses over the age range his books seem to reach. So far, he’s watched a lovely little lady of the age of ninety shuffle towards him and politely ask for his autograph, because her granddaughter just loves him but sadly couldn’t make it today. Then he blinked in surprise when a child that resembled the age of fifteen appeared, ladled with every single book he’s written with a request for his autograph and a selfie. 

By now, Castiel is gulping down a burning mouthful of coffee, walking as slowly as possible towards the table again. However, lost in his own mind leads him to stumble over a dropped book, coffee splashing around in the cup as he lands face first in a rather sturdy chest. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” The owner of the chest snaps, pushing Castiel back to his feet. “Fuckin’ ruined my shirt with your damned coffee!” Castiel blinks. This man was shouting at him for tripping? “My apologies. It was an accident sir.” “Uh huh.” Castiel frowns. Surely the man must have seen him trip over the discarded book, he definitely can’t think that Castiel would deliberately throw the coffee at him. “It was an accident.” He repeats, voice harder this time with irritation. “Jesus. Calm down man. Think I’d punched you or something.” Castiel is entirely stunned and far too exhausted to argue. “Right. Okay. Goodbye. Again, sorry about your shirt.” He mutters, shoving past the man and storming back to the table. Gabriel knows within an instant somethings wrong. “What happened?” “I met an asshole.” 


	2. Chapter Two

Dean yawns and glances at his watch. He’d been here for nearly two hours now. Managed to sleep through the reading, only to be woken by the loud, obnoxious applaud the man received. With a quiet grumble of complaint about chairs and the pain they cause for no reason other than the god-damned material that feels like sandpaper, Dean lifts himself from the chair and stretches. He can see the crowd over the top of the bookshelves easily, silently thankful for his gigantic height. He spots Sam towards the front of the seats, not at all surprised. Smiling, Dean smacks his lips and looks around at the dust covered bookshelves. Somehow, he’s managed to find himself in the mechanics section, which does him fine. Baby needed a tune up, and Dean’s skills were a tad rusty.

He moves his way through the winding bookshelves, trying in vain to find the coffee machine again. He knows he really shouldn’t, since he’s on night shift at the diner tonight and then Bobby’s workshop tomorrow. Bobby’d stab him if he turned up after a night of no sleep because he decided to indulge his guilty pleasure. After losing his way far too many times than he’d like to admit, he finally makes it out towards the main corridor.

With a soft huff, Dean looks over the top of the shelves and spots the coffee machine two rows over. Thank God. He’s halfway around the corner when something collides hides into chest, warmth seeping through his shirt. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” The words are out of his mouth before he can process. “Fuckin’ ruined my shirt with your damned coffee!” The words are just slipping, the anger at his only good shirt now entirely ruined due to some idiot. “My apologies. It was an accident sir.” Sir? The hell is this guy. “Uh huh.” Dean pulls the sticky shirt off of his chest, groaning quietly at the feeling. “It was an accident.” The man repeats, voice harder now as though Deans managed to offend him somehow. “Jesus. Calm down man. Think I’d punched you or something.” “Right. Okay. Goodbye. Again, sorry about your shirt.” The man shoves past him, Dean’s shoulder colliding with the shelf behind him. “Hey! Nice day to you too!” He snaps, fixing his jacket before he looks down at his shirt and silently questions why he’s bothering. “Fucking asshole.” He mutters.

Dean pats down the shirt a few minutes later, throwing the ruined the paper in the bin. He curses and looks around before he comes to the conclusion that the only thing he can do is go buy a new shirt, unless he wants to look like a hobo for the rest of the day _. ‘Nipping to the store. Wait at the car if you finish.’_ He waits for the ping of Sam’s phone before he steps out of the store, tugging his jacket around him to hide the stain.

He ponders for a moment whether or not he had the right to shout at the man they way he did. Clearly, it had been an accident and Dean had spotted afterwards the book laying on the floor. Yet, it could have gone a little better if perhaps he hadn’t been carrying the coffee, and had at least attempted to help in some way. At the same time, the man had no right to get frustrated with Dean for how he reacted when burned by coffee.

Dean grumbles as he steps into the clothing store he’s finally stumbled upon, grabbing the first plaid shirt he sees; a black and blue that’ll match his identical copy in the wardrobe. The queue is enormous, and adds yet another reason onto the ever growing list of why he’s beginning to hate this man. The list only gets longer when Dean begrudgingly hands over $30 for a damned shirt. The woman allows him to change shirts in the changing room once he explains his predicament; spending a few extra minutes trying to decide whether he wants to even try to get rid of the stain or just accept defeat and throw it in the bin. The latter wins.

When he makes it back to the car, Sam is leaning against it smiling widely at the book in his hand. “Hey Sammy.” His brother’s attention takes a few seconds to grab before the books closed. “Dean. New shirt?” Dean waves him off, climbs into the car and sighs. “Don’t ask. C’mon. I need to eat.” Once Sam’s in the car, Dean pulls out, screeching to a stop after three seconds when a black limousine cuts him off. “Hey! The hell?!” A few beeps and the limo flashes the lights, a silent apology. “Fucking asshole.”

~~~~~~

Castiel sighs and flops beside his brother on their two seater couch, cradling his tea against his chest. He hasn’t spoken since they left the book store, let his brother babble beside him about how wonderful that woman was, and how sweet it was to give them flowers. Castiel found it a little offensive in truth. The thought that the woman believed she had to thank him for coming with a bunch of flowers already half dead. He had accepted them before handing them to Gabriel once they were in the limo and informing him that he can do with them as he wishes.

He sighs and picks up his tv remote, flicking through the channels before Gabriel speaks up once more. “Remember you have an interview tomorrow morning, and a singing at the mall in the afternoon.” He begins, a diary on his lap. “Nothing planned for Tuesday but dad wants to see us on Wednesday for some unknown and probably stupid reason. Also-“ “Gabriel. I love you and all, but please. I’m exhausted, I just need like an hour.” Castiel’s head was pounding, and he knew as soon as he’d finished his tea he’d be retiring to his room for a nap. “Right. Sorry Cassy.” “Castiel.” “Whatever you say Cassy.”

Castiel rolls his eyes and sips his tea. Gabriel smiles and snatches the remote, flicking it over to watch Catfish. “Gabriel! This is quite possibly the worst show ever created.” There’s a mock gasp from his brother. “Castiel Novak! How dare you offend me!” “Watching this offends me.” “Shut up. You’re leaving in a minute anyway.” “What? Where?” “Charlie. Remember?” Castiel gasps and scrambles from the couch, knocking Gabriel’s popcorn bowl off his lap as he goes. “Sabotage!” Gabriel shouts after him.

After Castiel has scrambled to grab his shoes and wallet, changed into a large fluffy sweater, he kisses Gabriel’s head before he’s climbing into his beat up car that he refuses to replace and pulling away. He can’t believe he’d forgotten about Charlie, especially since he hasn’t seen her in over a week. Charlie had been friends with Castiel since they were in freshman year. They’d met after Castiel had dropped a comic book which Charlie just so happened to love. Within a second, they were huddled against Castiel’s usual tree, babbling excitedly over the comic. Until Castiel had gotten home and his mother threw the comic in the bin before disciplining her son for reading such ungodly text. Charlie was the first person he had told about his sexuality, besides Gabriel of course.

Castiel pulls to a stop outside of their favourite coffee shop, quickly shoving a few quarters into the parking meter and stepping into the shop. He smiles at the instant barrage of coffee that hits him, easing the tension from his shoulders. He moves through the tables until he reaches the red headed girl tapping away on a laptop. “Hey Char.” “Castiel! Where the hell have you been? I thought you’d forgotten about me.” “Never Charlie! Just running a little late, shattered after all the signings.” “Yes! Tell me all about them! Mr number one selling author.” Castiel chuckles and sits across from her, accepting the chunk of donut she offers.

“There’s not much to tell Char. I’ve been in ten interviews since it was announced, signed fifteen thousand copies of my book, drank so much shitty coffee I feel like it’s been ruined for the rest of my life.” Charlie nods. “Sounds fabulous.” “”I suppose. I enjoy it obviously, it is great. All the fans and publicity, and don’t get me started on the money but you know. I’ve never done it for any of that. I’m not used to it.” Castiel pauses and catches a waitress’s attention, ordering a cappuccino. “I did have one problem though, today.”

“What happened?” “We took a break today during the signing and I went for coffee, which tasted worse than the last, and on the way back, I tripped. Fell forward, spilled my coffee over some guy who starts having a fit. I apologised twice. He started snapping at me, then had the audacity to get angry when I snapped back.” Castiel rolls his shoulders and looks down at his coffee. He knows it’s petty to be frustrated over something so small, but to him, the man had no right. Charlie takes his hand. “Well you apologised Castiel. That’s the least you could have done.” Castiel nods, smiling as he looks up at her. “I know. Just tired I gue-“ The rest of his sentence as he looks up, eyes landing on a tall man in a brown leather jacket step through the door. “Oh for Gods sake. It’s the asshole.”

~~~~~~

Dean slams the door to the impala shut as he steps out, slipping out the road of the traffic. “Dean, can’t we just make something back at home?” “Nothing in the house to eat and I don’t get paid until tomorrow so nope. And c’mon, when’s the last time we ate out together?” “Last night.” Dean pauses and looks at his little brother before shoving him. “Get the hell in there. Bitch.” “Quit shoving. Jerk.”

They step into the warm shop, rubbing hands together to rid the December chill before Dean’s ushering Sam into a booth. “God I’m starving.” “When aren’t you starving?” “Shut up. How’d the book thing go?” “Good! He’s amazing Dean!” Dean smiles, the conversation stopping for a few seconds as they scan the menus. “What’s so amazing about him?” Sam smiles. “Well, he’s cute to start off with. But he’s so down to earth. I got to ask him what inspired him to write. I actually got to speak to my favourite author De.” Dean smiles, ‘De’ was reserved for when Sam was exceptionally happy.

“What’s his inspiration?” “His friends. Family.” “Naturally.” “Yeah, well apparently he didn’t have a very good life.” “How so?” “Don’t know. He’s never spoken about his parents or anything, just his brother Gabriel.” Dean holds up his hand. “Hold on. Castiel, as in angel of Thursday Castiel, and Gabriel, as in the archangel?” “Yup. His mom was religious.” Dean nods in understanding. “I suppose we can relate.” “C’mon Sam. You know dad did what he could.” “The man’s dead Dean. And we’re better off for it. Stop defending the asshole.”

Dean sighs. John had been devastated after their mother had died; drowned himself in alcohol and fraud. He had been an angry drunk, disappointed in the son who did everything for him, and the other who disliked him. Dean had taken most of the beatings, protected Sam from their fathers drunken, or occasional sober, wrath. “He was trying his best Sammy.” “Yeah. Whatever.”

The conversation stops as the waiter arrives, Sam ordering his usual salad – rabbit food as Dean calls it – Dean his double bacon cheeseburger. He feels like now he could cut the tension in the air. Sam had never really liked their father. He had wanted to escape their life as soon as he could, apply to college and leave the fraud and musty motels behind. He had managed. But that had meant leaving Dean.

“I’m gonna go take a piss.” Dean mutters, sliding off the bench seat and brushing himself off. Sam doesn’t respond, pulling out a book from his bag and burying his nose in it. With a curt nod, Dean steps away and slumps towards the toilets. Pushing the door, he grunts in surprise when the door only swings back towards him. He pauses, a loud yelp reaching his ears. Fuck.

“Hey man, sorry about that. Didn’t know you where-“ Dean cuts off and groans loudly once he’s stepped into the room. He looks down at the man from the book store who’s now pressing a hand to his head. “Seriously?” The man snaps. “Shouting at me wasn’t enough earlier so now you have to hit me with the door?” Dean frowns. “Hey. It was a fuckin’ accident. How was I meant to now you were there? Do I have x-ray vision or something?” The man huffs and rubs the bump forming as he steps back. He stares at Dean with a pointed look. “Mind not staring at me? I know I’m handsome and all but that’s just creepy.” “My god. You have such a big head. How does your neck carry that much weight?” Dean chuckles. “My my. Lots of sass for someone so small.” “Shut up! I’m not small. You’re just a freaking giant!”

The man huffs and straightens himself, raising his chin. “Can you move please? I’ve spent more time stuck in here with you than I’d like.” “What exactly have I done to you to make you such an asshole?” The man’s jaw drops, and it takes all Dean has to not laugh at the sight. “Move. Now.” He snaps, shoving past him, managing to hit Dean in the shoulder with the door as he goes. Dean smiles and wipes a hand over his face as he walks towards the urinals. He was starting to like the guy.


	3. Chapter Three

“C’mon Cassy! Even you have to admit that asshole is cute!” Charlie had been invested the minute she spotted Dean at the door, even more so when Castiel returned with a rather large bruise forming already. “Char! He’s shouting at me and smacked me in the face with a toilet door.” “What exactly does that have to do with how he looks?” Castiel slips his key into the lock and steps into the warmth of his apartment, Gabriel’s voice ringing out from the kitchen. “Hey Gabey!” Charlie shouts, smiling at the groan she gets in response at the name. She sits down on the couch, propping her feet up onto the table as Castiel joins her. “Okay. Yes he’s hit you and shouted but in all fairness, you did spill boiling hot coffee on the guy and ruin his shirt.” “And? I apologised. He didn’t. I certainly wouldn’t have shouted if it had happened to me.” “But you’re you.” “What exactly does that mean?” “Not a clue.” Charlie laughs and grabs one of Gabriel’s magazines.  
“So what’s the topic of conversation today?” Gabriel appears opposite them, copying Charlie’s pose. “Castiel’s new friend.” Castiel nearly laughs at how quickly Gabriel’s eyebrows shoot up. “Your new friend?” “He’s not a friend. He’s an asshole.” “How exactly?” Castiel relays the earlier conversation, now adding in about the toilet. Gabriel laughs at the end of it. “I see. Was this the guy from the book store?” “Yeah.” “Well, remember the big tall guy who came? Asked about your inspirations?” Castiel nods. How exactly could you forget someone who looked so tall, and yet so young? “Yeah?” “Well, they know each other.” “They do? How do you know?” “The kid was standing at the car when he walked up. Looked super pissed.”  
Castiel frowns and slips down on his couch, biting at his nails. Perhaps he had misjudged. The kid hadn’t looked more than 18, gangly limbed and big doe eyes. Asshole had to be his brother then, maybe the same age as Castiel. He stands up and walks into his bedroom, door shutting behind him. Slipping into the chair beside his bed, flipping his laptop open and hitting play on a playlist he’d made himself for moments like these.  
He clicks open a new document and stares at the blank screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Think Castiel. Brown jacket. Green eyes. Stands tall, almost like a soldier. Clearly the man had been through a lot, just from his appearance. His brother would mean a lot to him, the way the man had flicked his eyes around the coffee shop before he had let the boy walk any further. Castiel chews his lips and begins to type.  
~~~~~~  
“Bobby! I’m here!” “In the library boy. Where’s Sam?” “Uni. Dropped him there this morning. What’ve I got today then?” “Just two. Engine and clutch. Paint job on the other.” Dean nods and grabs a beer off of Bobby’s table. “Alright. Well I’ll do the engine first. Need to pick up Sammy and drop him at Jo’s then I’ll do the paint.” “I swear that boy has you wrapped around his finger.” “He does. Flashes those damned puppy dog eyes and I’m screwed.” He says fondly, shoving off his jacket and flannels. “You just love him too damned much.” “Can’t really blame me for that Bobby. You love him just as much. He’s the only person we have left.”  
Dean sets his beer on the counter by his tools and looks at the dusty truck in front of him. He sighs and rubs a hand over his face before he pops the hood and stares down at the tangle of metal and wires. As he works, he ponders over the conversation from the coffee shop. Sam had always hated John for what he had done to them, uprooting them from their home and driving from state to state, one motel to another. Dean had too to an extent. But then, he had always been Johns good little soldier; taking orders, never talking back, and most of all, looking after Sammy.  
He groans at the silence in the garage, stopping to wipe the grease off his hands before he’s turning on the radio. “Finally.” He mutters, the first few bars of Led Zeppelins Travelling Riverside Blues playing from the speaker. Bobbing his head, Dean lifts his wrench and leans over the hood again, singing quietly. “Asked sweet mama, let me be her kid. She said ‘you might get hurt if you don’t keep it hid.’” He chuckles and raises the wrench to his lips, “Well I know my baby, if I see him in the dark. I said I know my rider, if I see him in the dark.” He smiles and glances around.  
No one knew that Dean batted for both teams, especially Sammy. He knows Sam would never judge him for his sexuality, but it was admitting it himself that scared him. John had beaten it into him that he would never get married, he didn’t deserve that pleasure, especially if it stopped him from looking after his brother. Not that Dean had truly been interested in a lasting relationship. He’d had an abundance of one night stands, more women than men but then, trying to hide handprints on his hips was harder to hide from his father.  
“I’m off Bobby. See you soon.” Dean shouts, grabbing his jacket from the chair in the living room, looking through the doorway at the man. “Alright son.” Dean smiles. Bobby was like their surrogate father, better to them than John had ever been. “Tell Sam I say hi. And he better drop by soon or I’m gonna whoop his ass.” “Will do.”  
~~~~~~  
Castiel sets the laptop down in front of Gabriel the next night, shoving the man’s coffee and book to the side. “Read it. Tell me what you think.” “Well hi to you too. Haven’t seen you all day.” “I’ve been busy Gabe. Read.” “Eat first then I read.” Castiel glowers at his brother before stomping past and grabbing food for a sandwich. Gabriel smiles at him proudly and looks at the laptop screen. “You’ve started a new novel?” “Yeah. I was thinking about everything and I kind of thought of a new plot. I think. But I don’t know. Which is why I said read.” He’s getting more insistent, ushering Gabriel to look back at the screen. “Okay, okay. I’m reading.”  
Castiel sits down across from him and chews on his lip. The idea had been spur of the moment, brought on by Gabriel’s revelation that asshole and the kid knew each other. He hadn’t spent long before he realised they must have been brothers; they had the same vibe as himself and Gabriel had. From there, it was a case of jotting down a few name ideas, lay out a basic plot and start from there. Castiel never delved too deep into his characters at the beginning, he would know after chapter one how each character would act.  
“Well?” “It’s good. Yeah. Who’s the main character based off of?” Castiel pauses, hand hanging between them as he accepts the laptop back. “Uh…” “It’s the brothers isn’t it?” “Maybe. I don’t know. I just started writing.” Gabriel seems to find his point humorous, chuckling at him. “Uh huh. So asshole wasn’t exceptionally tall, with brown hair, and bright green eyes? No?” Castiel huffs and hugs his laptop to his chest. “Shut up. So they’re alike. Doesn’t mean it’s the same guy.” “Sure little brother. Whatever you say.” Castiel frowns and looks down at his food. “I’m not very hungry.” “Castiel. Eat.” “Gabriel, I’m not hungry.” “I don’t care. What have you eaten today?” “Crisps, and this.” “So eat it.” “But-“ “Eat it and we’ll go to the movies.”  
Castiel pauses and watches his brother. Did he want to accept bribery? Usually, it cost him something in return, and never anything fun. Yet, this was his first night off in a long time since the book was published, and there was bound to be new movies out. “Fine. After I shower though.” “What? You gotta look nice for all those people looking at you in the pitch black room?” “Shut up. I’ve been in my room all day and I smell like shit coffee, which we need to buy by the way.” “Okay. We can do that on the way back from your interview.” “Interview?”  
As far as Castiel was concerned, he had nothing scheduled for the evening except perhaps a cup of coffee and-Fuck. He did. And a signing on top of that the next day. Groaning, Castiel steps away and grumbles on his way to the bathroom. “Sometimes I hate my job!” He strips off, leaning into the shower to turn on the spray. Castiel shoves off his clothes and glances in the mirror, eyes raking over the small white scars covering his chest. He didn’t look at them very often, the memories of his mother standing over him with his belt too vivid to think of. He breathes a sigh of relief when the mirror steams over, almost like the thoughts in his head. Stepping into the shower, he relaxes under the warm spray, pushing his unruly hair back off his face.  
His thoughts drift back to the asshole – he really had to learn his name – and the thought that such a young, handsome man, Castiel had to admit, had a little brother like the boy he had met. The boy seemed intelligent, even from the five minutes they spoke Castiel could gauge the boys intelligence and his clear aspiration to become an author himself. The boy had managed to fit a number of questions in the time it took for Castiel to sign his name on the first page of the book. In truth, Castiel had enjoyed speaking with him more than the others at the signing, and considering a few of the people attending were English professors, that was quite a surprise. But then, the professors always ask the same things; what university did you attend? Which author is your favourite? George Orwell or Emily Brontë?  
Castiel was entirely sick of those questions, he’d heard enough of them even before he was this famous. His response was always the same. ‘I went to NYU, studied English literature, and neither I’m afraid. I’m more a fan of Oscar Wilde fan.’ It was insured to deliver a few astonished looks before the professors are spluttering and making their way to the door.  
Castiel chuckles at the memory, reaching up to turn off the spray and fumble through the water currently falling into his eyes to grab a towel. Perhaps he can convince Gabriel to agree to watch a chick flick with him at the movies. With that in mind, Castiel smiles and walks over to his wardrobe, lifting his large yellow sweater before turning to look over at the door. “Hey Gabe?”  
~~~~~~  
Dean was still grumbling about the shirt. “Bloody good shirt as well. Fuckin’ ruined.” Sam rolls his eyes at his brother and flops on the couch. “We should go out tonight.” “Where exactly?” “I don’t know. Arcade?” “With a bunch of whiny teens? I have enough of that with you.” “Hey!” Dean chuckles and shoves Sam’s feet off of the table before sinking down beside him. “Fine. How about the movies?” Sam grins and sits up. “Yes! We have to go see the new musical! It’s about this couple, and one of them is an actress-“ “Chick flick? Hell no Sammy. You know my opinions on chick flicks.” “Dean, c’mon! Please! We watched your choice last time.” “My choice?? You coerced me into agreeing to see the Titanic again!”  
Dean sighs and leans back, shoving his brother lightly. “Go away, do something. We’ll go in an hour.” Sam makes a noise of delight and jumps off of the couch, literally skipping into his bedroom. Dean chuckles at his little brother and tips his head back on the back of the couch, smiling to himself when he hears Sam’s Mozart cd beginning to play.  
Sam had always been different from Dean. He had enjoyed school, practically thrived for it. Dean would make sure the first thing he did when they moved to a new town was enrol Sam in school; get up with him every day to drive him to school and pick him up. John had never cared if his eldest had gone to school, Dean had never truly made their father proud. He only cared that Dean locked the doors and windows, was his perfect little soldier, and most of all, looked after Sam.  
Sam had never gotten along with their father. They argued over everything, mainly Dean, and how Sam had no intentions of following in his father’s footsteps and become the biggest fraud in town. He would shout, talk back, everything Dean had been terrified to do. But then, Dean had helped Sam leave. He had been the one to submit Sammy’s application to Stanford. He had been the one driving at 2am from the most recent motel room with his little brother; their father passed out on the couch.  
Dean swallows and lifts himself from the couch, wiping away the thoughts of his father with a swig at the left over whiskey on the table. He looks down at the abandoned book on the table, the paged well thumbed. Frowning, he picks up the book and opens it, reading over the inscription. ‘For an exceptional young man, Sam.’ He grins and drops it back on the table.  
Sam was exceptional. Dean had to admit. He was far more intelligent than Dean gives him credit for, far more intelligent than Dean. Passed his exams with hardly any effort, which naturally caused him a few problems amongst his schoolmates but once they saw Sam’s older brother, the problems tended to stop. Dean does, however, remember being expelled after giving some kid a swirly because he’d had a go at Sam. Safe to say Dean was protective of Sam.  
He whips up some macaroni for them both, spooning Sam’s into a bowl along with a coke from the fridge. “Sammy! Dinner!” His brother appears at the counter a few minutes later, lifting the bowl and drink before scuttling back to his room. Dean blinks in surprise before he copies, moving to the living room and flicking on the tv. “Nope. Nope. God no. Why is there nothing good on?” He pauses, eyes landing on blue that he’s come to recognise as the assholes. He settles back out of intrigue and huffs quietly.  
“Yes, I know. It has been a world wind the past few days. Being a best seller was never something I truly aspired to be, but I will admit I enjoy it.” The man smiles, “I’m still getting used to having so many fans, or being followed by the paparazzi.” He laughs. Dean huffs quietly. Nothing like parading it around. He watches carefully, at the way the man wrangles his hands together, a tight smile across his lips. Clearly the man is nervous, uncomfortable, and terrified judging from the way his eyes are flitting off camera every few seconds.  
He leans forward, subconsciously, and frowns at the irritated interviewer who seems displeased with where this interview is heading. “Yes, but how do you feel? What have you spent your earnings on?” The man seems to blush a little. “Uh, not a lot actually. I’ve never really had money, and so far all I’ve really spent it on is a new tv…” The woman seems to only become more irritated but Dean finds it humorous this time. As does the man, who now has a real smile growing on his lips. Dean finds his own matching it, though he quickly wipes it away and clears his throat.  
“Sammy! C’mon lets go. Now.” Dean pushes off of the couch and grabs his jacket, wallet shoved in his back pocket. “Sammy!” “Quit hollering! I’m here!” Sam stumbles out of his room, hopping as he tries to tie his lace while shoving a phone into his pocket. Dean sighs and bends down, pulling Sam’s foot onto his lap. He hadn’t done this since Sam was five, and learned how to tie his own shoes. He had hit Dean’s hand away with a shout of, “Bean!” and wrapped his pudgy fingers around the lace, squealing in delight when he succeeded.  
Sam sighs quietly but allows his brother to continue, a small blush on his cheeks. Sometimes Dean forgets how old Sam actually is, when he does that. Or the nights when he’s had a nightmare, and Dean finds his arms suddenly full of his little brother like old times; both waking in a tangle of limbs and a fight for the covers. He sets Sam’s foot back down on the floor and smiles. “Ready?” “Yup. Oh, can we stop by the library on the way back?” “At twelve at night?” “Right...”  
~~~~~~  
Castiel smiles and sits himself down in the rather hard chairs at the back of the cinema, propping his feet up on the back of the chair in front. Gabriel slumps down beside him. “Fucking La La Land Cassy? Really?” “Yes! Gabriel it’s meant to be amazing. Come on.” “Fine.” Castiel accepts the bucket of popcorn Gabriel offers, quickly munching a few pieces. He gasps when a figure appears through the dark, looking down at him over the seats. The man sighs and sits down directly in front of him, head only slightly blocking the view. Another man sits down beside him.  
“Can’t believe you’re dragging me to this shit show.” The man says, somewhat quiet and Castiel silently appreciates that. “Shut up! You were the one who chose it over everything else! I wanted to see the new Star Wars” “That would have been worse.” The other man huffs and snatches the popcorn, slipping down on the seat and aggressively snatching pieces, grumbling every few handfuls. “Hey! Quit hogging the popcorn Sam.” “Then quit hogging the juice Dean.”  
Castiel gasps, suddenly recognising the wavy tuft of brown hair of the man. He was the kid from the book signing! Gabriel frowns and glances over at him. The man ahead must be Dean, which means he’s the asshole that Castiel met. Castiel grins. “Finally a name.” He whispers, watching the back of their heads with interests. Dean’s hair was shorter than Castiel had originally thought, and more dirty blonde than blonde, though he could see why he had made that mistake.  
He casts a glance at Gabriel before he looks back the man in front. He frowns when he doesn’t see him anymore, sitting up and glancing around the slowly darkening room. “This yours?” Castiel looks up at the voice, gasping in surprise. “D-Dean?” “Uh…Yeah. I know you?” “Oh, no. Sorry. Yeah, that’s mine.” He mumbles, accepting the scarf off of Dean. “Must have slipped under the chair. Thanks.” Dean nods and holds out a hand. “Dean, but clearly you knew that.” “Cast-Cas. My name’s Cas.” Dean’s smile is bright even in the dim light of the movie theatre and Castiel can slowly feel his own matching it. “Hey! Shut it!” Castiel watches Dean stand up straight, eyes cast over the seats in front of him to look for the source of the voice. “You shut it! You’re annoying everyone here with your goddamned popcorn munching.” He snaps, his grin slipping to a smirk when he hears a rumble of agreement from the rest of the audience.  
Castiel smiles up at the man and clutches his scarf to his chest. “Thanks for giving it back. Sorry for disturbing you.” “Hey, it’s fine. See you after the movie Cas.” “Okay.” He watches the man walk away, a small swagger in his hips from the bow legs he seems to have. Castiel has to admit that there’s something attractive about it. He glances over at his brother to find a smirk playing on his lips, slowly sipping from his slushie. “What?” “Not a thing Cassy. Not a thing.”  
~~~~~~  
Dean frowns when he hears the music slowly start, groaning inwardly at the knowledge that this was going to be quite possibly the biggest chick flick of his life. Though, judging from the look on his little brother’s face, it was important to him. And Dean wasn’t going to ruin it for him. He settles back in the uncomfortable chair and slurps as quietly as he can on his drink. His brother casts a glance at him before he seems to flinch, the room filling with an exceptionally large crunch. Dean rolls his eyes and wonders if that’s how he sounds to his brother when he eats like a slob. He’ll admit that it’s deliberate to watch the small, slightly disgusted smile on his brother’s face when Dean ends up with burger juice all over his face.  
He also has to admit that the crunch is beginning to annoy him, and clearly by Sam’s tense posture it’s beginning to frustrate him too. He can’t seem to place the cruncher, and he’s giving all his time to the endeavour instead of the current sappy dance scene playing in front of him. Sam’s grinning now, clearly no longer caring about the unbelievably frustrating cruncher that Dean really wants to slap right about now. The thought seems to slip when something hits his leg. With a small glance around Dean leans down and pulls something soft into his hand, from the light Dean can partially recognise the colour as burgundy. He frowns and casts a glance behind himself, though the row behind is cast too dark for him to make out features.  
He nudges past Sam, bending low to the ground for the sake of those behind him. Sam whacks his leg, grumbling quietly about blocking his view and then he’s in the back row, still bent for some reason, as he walks towards the man who’s sat behind his seat. “This yours?” He whispers, ineffectively, holding out the material. The man gasps, jumping as though Dean’s screamed in his ear. “D-Dean?” The man stutters, and the voice takes him by surprise. Why does it sound so familiar? “Uh…Yeah. I know you?” He asks, arm dropping back to his side. The man that’s used his name has now caught his interest rather than the material. “Oh, no. Sorry. Yeah, that’s mine.” The man takes the material, and Dean realizes that it’s a scarf. “Must have slipped under the chair. Thanks.” Dean nods, and holds out a hand for some unknown reason. “Dean, but clearly you knew that.” “Cast-Cas. My name’s Cas.” Dean smiles suddenly, the man’s voice and stuttering seeming to be somehow attractive and amusing to him. The man’s smile grows to match his own, and Dean’s eyes slip down to focus on it.  
“Hey! Shut it!” Dean stands up straight, looking out across the dark room. His eyes land on a middle aged man a few rows ahead, head turned to face him with a scowl etched onto his face. Dean blinks in surprise when he realised who the man is. “You shut it! You’re annoying everyone here with your goddamned popcorn munching!” Dean smirks then, a small murmur of agreement from the rest of the watchers. The man huffs and slumps down in his seat. Dean looks back at Cas. “Thanks for giving it back. Sorry for disturbing you.” “Hey, it’s fine. See you after the movie Cas.” “Okay.” Dean smiles once more before he slowly meanders back to his seat. He sighs happily and props his feet on the chair in front. Sam stares at him before shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.” “What? I was right wasn’t I? He was annoying everyone.” “Don’t mean him Dean. Mean the guy you’re flirting with behind us.” “Dude calm down. I was giving him his scarf back.” “Uh huh.”  
~~~~~~  
Dean has to stop himself from slowly throttling his brother once they step back into the foyer of the movies. “How amazing was that?!” Sam’s raving on about the movie, and Dean already knows Sam’s going to chew his ear off the rest of the night. He fists his jacket and walks behind his brother. “Okay. You loved it. I get it.” He mutters. “Now shut up and go buy me some ice cream.” He hands Sam some bills and shoves him towards the food. “Extra chocolate!” “Yeah, yeah.” Dean grins and cracks his fingers, rolling his head. “Dean?” He opens his eyes again, meeting bright blue. “Yeah?” “I’m Cas…” The man mumbles. Dean blinks in surprise when he focuses on the man’s face properly. “You! You’re the asshole who spilled the coffee on me!” Admittedly it wasn’t the best start to a conversation but naturally when it comes to Dean, it doesn’t come easy.  
Cas flushes brightly, looking down at the floor. “Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. It was an accident.” Dean quickly retracts. “Right. Sorry. That was harsh. Dean-I already told you that.” Cas laughs, smiling up at him. Dean quickly takes note of the laugh, ranks it on his scale and smiles when it lands half way through mutual and flirty. After the years spent with numerous woman and men, Dean’s managed to pin point a laugh. “So, tell me, is your name actually Cas? Or is it Castiel?” Cas freezes and stares at him, “What? How did you know?” Dean grins. “You said Cast originally and then Cas, so I linked it. I know you’re the great Jimmy Novak who my brothers constantly going on about which means your brother is Gabriel. Religious name, Cassiel is the angel of Thursday, and your names Cas. Makes sense.”  
The man stares in surprise for a few seconds, and Dean panics that perhaps he was wrong but then Cas is nodding his head, with an impressed smile on his lips. “Yeah. My name’s Castiel. I’m surprised you know that much about angels. Religious family?” Dean has to laugh at that. His father’s version of God was a brand new bottle of whiskey, and his sons in a different room to give him peace. “You could say that.” Is his response however. Too early to delve into family history. Cas gives a small nod of understanding before he’s turning, a man appearing beside him. “Gabe, this is Dean.” Ah, so his brother.  
The man’s somewhat shorter than Cas and himself, with long light brown hair and, Dean can’t think of another word for them, golden eyes. “Dean? As in?” “The same one. Nice to meet you.” Dean holds out his hand, politest smile on his face. Something told him Gabriel was older, and was somewhat like Dean, in being protective of their little brothers. His assumption is correct when the man’s eyebrow raises. “No harm done I hope. Misunderstanding each time.” Castiel nods in agreement. “Yeah. Sorry for shouting when you hit me with the door, I’ll admit that I forgot that the door swung both ways.” “Ha. It’s me.”  
Dean pauses, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to figure out if he’s really just admitted that he swings both ways in front of two men whom he’s only properly just met. He gives an awkward chuckle. “Uh, sorry. Don’t know where that came from.” “No harm done. Us greedy people got to stick together right?” Castiel teases, a glint in his eye as he gives Dean a reassuring smile. Dean blinks in response before he nods. “Yeah, I suppose we do.” The conversation seems to end there, and Dean takes a moment to realise that Cas has just admitted to batting for both teams too. A small smile grows, along with a slight glimmer of hope in his chest that something may happen with this man.  
He’s not entirely sure where the thought comes from, and it scares him a little before he decides that fuck it, he deserves something good in his life for once. Like the ice cream currently being shoved into his hands. “Here. Thanks for the extra money. It’ll help buy my books for this year.” Dean looks up at his brother and rolls his eyes. “You could have just asked you know.” “Where’s the fun in that.” Dean sighs and takes a small bite of the ice cream. “Sammy, this is Castiel and Gabe.” He mutters, before he realises that introductions are pointless. “Never-mind.” He mumbles afterwards, focusing more on his ice cream than the three men around him chuckling. “It’s nice to see you again Sam.” “And you Mr Novak. Dean, we should really get going. I have class tomorrow.” Dean nods and finishes his ice cream. “Right. See you around Cas.” He smiles, pausing to grab a pen out of his jacket. “My number.” He supplies, before winking and sauntering off with Sam. Yeah, he was really starting to like the guy.


	4. Chapter Four

Castiel steps out of the dark room, eyeing the man pushing a boy towards the food. He smiles, takes in Dean’s leather jacket, blue flannel and blue shirt. He notes that the man dresses in layers. “Dean?” He disrupts the man, who’s leaning back with his eyes closed. When Dean opens his eyes, Cas stares in surprise at bright green eyes. The light in the movie theatre had done Dean no favours, and Cas can see sinful. “Yeah?” Cas notes the confusion on Dean’s face. “I’m Cas…” Dean takes a moment to scrutinise Cas’ face, before his mouth opens wide. “You! You’re the asshole who spilled the coffee on me!”

Cas wasn’t entirely expecting that as their first conversation together but all he can do is blush at the memory, look down at the floor and mumble a “Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. It was an accident.” “Right. Sorry. That was harsh, Dean-I already told you that.” Cas has to laugh at that, watching such a man flounder over his words. He’s taken by surprise by Dean’s next question. “So, tell me, is your name actually Cas? Or is it Castiel?” Castiel stares in surprise. He’s never told anyone his name, let alone a stranger. His fans only know his as Jimmy Novak; his middle and last names. How could Dean possibly know it? “What? How did you know?” Dean flashes a grin, and Cas can’t help but smile too. “You said Cast originally and then Cas, so I linked it. I know you’re the great Jimmy Novak my brother’s constantly going on about which means your brother’s Gabriel. Religious name, Cassiel is the angel of Thursday, and your name is Cas. Makes sense.”

Cas stares at him, uncaring that his mouth is hanging open as he stares somewhat dumbly at the man. What a sight he must be. He closes his lips and tilts them into a smile, nodding his head. “Yeah. My name’s Castiel. I’m surprised you know that much about angels. Religious family?” He asks. He can’t think of another word to describe his current emotion beside astonished. No one had guessed his name, and especially not because of a stutter and his brothers name. Dean seems to have gotten lost in his thoughts, Cas is getting close to doing the same when a brush against his arm and Dean’s response of “You could say that.” Breaks him out of it. Cas gives Dean a small nod before he’s looking at his brother.

“Gabe, this is Dean.” Cas notes Dean eyeing his brother slightly, eyes flickering back up as Gabriel talks. “Dean? As in?” “The same one. Nice to meet you.” Castiel is charmed when Dean offers his hand with a smile on his face. Cas sidesteps as Gabriel slowly moves his arm in front, eyes rolling at the protective stance his brother always takes. “No done I hope,” Dean continues, “Misunderstanding each time.” Cas nods in agreement, the coffee truly had been a mistake; too lost in his mind to notice the man in front of him. “Yeah. Sorry for shouting when you hit me with the door. I’ll admit that I forgot doors swing both ways.” Dean snorts a laugh. “It’s me.”

Castiel can only stare at him and slowly try to process the fact that Dean’s just outed himself as bisexual. He has to say that he never got the vibe from him, and Castiel’s gay-dar was rather good. Dean seems to be going through the same struggle, the way his face has contorted in an adorable way, small frown lines on his forehead. “Uh, sorry. Don’t know where that came from.” Cas smiles at him and swallows before he replies, “No harm done. Us greedy people need to stick together right?” He can feel his brother’s astonished look on the side of his face, and he’s currently fighting his own at his response. Dean made his by accident, but Cas had openly come out to him.

Dean seems to have acknowledged the information before he has a small smile, “Yeah, I suppose we do.” Cas instantly recognises the smile and returns it in kind. He’s thinking the same; they started out on the wrong foot but that doesn’t necessarily mean that they can’t reconcile it, make something of the introductions. And judging by the wheels turning in Dean’s head, something tells him that they can, and will. He can feel himself slowly moving forward, and catches himself before he takes a step. In time though considering Dean suddenly has a handful of ice cream. “Here. Thanks for the extra money. It’ll help pay for this year.” Castiel watches Dean interact with his little brother with interest. “You could have just asked you know.” “Where’s the fun in that.” “Sammy, this is Castiel and Gabe.”

Cas watches him pause, a chuckle escaping his own lips as Dean mutters a “Never-mind.” Dean suddenly seems completely intent on investigating his ice cream tub, as though the chocolate mint chip has the most interesting story to tell. “It’s nice to see you again Sam.” The name feels foreign on his tongue having never said it before but he only smiles, nodding his head at the boy. No, man. No man that height can be classed as a boy, not when he’s nearly taller than his brother who stands a head taller than Castiel himself. “And you Mr Novak. Dean, we should really get going. I have class tomorrow.” Dean swallows the rest of his ice cream in a surprisingly well tested fashion, and grab a pen from his pocket. Cas feels a calloused hand take his own, pen gliding across his skin leaving behind an eleven digit number.

~~~~~~

Cas had given up on sleeping. After he'd returned home from the cinema, he's absentmindedly made himself some tea, plopped down in front of the tv to watch the static whilst Gabriel hustled around him attempting to tidy up the apartment. Gabriel had accepted defeat around 2am, patting Castiel on the head before slumping off to his bed. Castiel had waved him off, eyes having drifted down towards the numbers scrawled across his palm. He had been thinking about calling him, but then Dean may be asleep. Perhaps he should text. But what if it wakes him up? Or Dean may reply and Cas won't know what to say. He was trapped in a violent circle. Even now, lying on his bed staring up at the numbers this time, hand above his head, the thought was still running though his head. “Oh fuck it.” Castiel reaches over and grabs his phone. “Just so he has my number. That's all.” He mutters as he starts to type. **_To:Dean. 03:41. Hello Dean. It’s Castiel. I hope I don't wake you. I just wanted to give you my number. And thank you again for giving me my scarf back._** Smiling happily to himself, he places his phone under his pillow and decides that perhaps sleep is a good idea.

Five minutes later, that idea goes flying out of his mind when his phone pings. **_From: Dean. 03:48. Hey Cas! How come you're still awake? Night owl?_** He’s not entirely sure why, but just the short texts have made him smile more than he has all night since he returned home. **_To:Dean. 03:50. Not exactly. Just got a few things on my mind tonight. Struggling to sleep._** It was true. He was struggling to sleep, a green eyed man on his mind. He looks back at the phone in time to see Dean typing back. **_From: Dean. 03:53. Wanna share your thoughts? Intrigued to know what goes on in that author head of yours. And it's either listen to you or Sammy drone on about your books for about the fiftieth time._** Castiel laughs at that. Clearly Dean knows about his books then, and for some reason, that sent his heart flying.

**_To:Dean. 03:58. Nothing in particular Dean. Just a few ideas for new books but unfortunately they must be kept confidential. Author secrecy and what not ;)_ **

**_From Dean. 04:01. Well now I'm even more intrigued. Sure you can't share even for a new friend?_ **

**_To: Dean. 04:06. Unfortunately not Dean. No matter who that friend is, or if he's more, then I cannot tell you. You're just going to have to wait for the book and read it. Or rather, Sam will read it and then relay it all to you._ **

**_From: Dean. 04:11. How very dare you. I read! Mainly comics but it counts! Anyway, I have an author friend now. I get special treatment. Like what the book is about before it's published._ **

Cas sighs. He was going to have to tell him eventually. But then, he could t exactly say it was directly about Dean when they met each other. They’ve only spoken a few times and already Cas feels close to him, and perhaps enough to write his new book about him.

**_To: Dean. 04:15. Fine. But you cannot tell anyone else. Swear to secrecy!_ **

**_From: Dean. 04:15. I swear oh gracious author. Now spill._ **

Cas laughs. Yes. He was definitely a fan of Dean Winchester.

**_To: Dean. 04:17. It's about a handsome man, who’s never had much luck in life. Until he meets a socially awkward man. At first, they don't know what to make of each other until one day, they finally come to realise they can't cope without each other. Soppy I know. It's a work in process._ **

Castiel feels rather silly now having sent it. What would Dean make of that? Castiel never wrote romances. Frowning, he throws his phone on the bed beside himself, glaring up at the ceiling. “Idiot.” He mutters. The more he thought about it, the sillier the idea seemed to be. He's prepared to delete his notes off of his laptop, wipe it out of his ideas when his phone pings.

**_From: Dean. 04:29. Tell me dear Castiel, does this handsome man with no luck have green eyes and a slight Texan accent? And the socially awkward man with large blue eyes and a smile that should be worn more often?_ **

Castiel blinks in surprise before smiling. Dean hadn't dismissed the glides. He liked it. Castiel decides that he's going to keep it that way. His new book was definitely going to involve the wonderful man talking to him as though he was a the most interesting person in the world.

**_To:Dean. 04:32. Perhaps it does Dean. Being as socially awkward as I am, I need to ask, are you flirting with me?_ **

Cas pauses, lips between his teeth as he stares at the screen. He was going to look like an idiot if Dean wasn't. What was he thinking? Of course the man wasn't. Who would want to flirt with a socially awkward author who never leaves the house apart from the cinema and interviews. He sighs and licks the phone, staring at it sadly as he waits for a reply.

**_From: Dean. 04:35. Am I flirting with an exceptionally handsome, interesting man with large blue eyes? Why yes, Castiel I am. Would you prefer if I stopped?_ **

Cas bites his lip. Dean was flirting with him. Openly flirting. He blushes brightly and can't help the small laugh he lets out in surprise. He most definitely did not want him to stop. He wanted to smile like this more often.

**_To: Dean. 04:36. No. Please don't stop. I want to flirt back but you know..social awkwardness. Sorry.._ **

**_From: Dean. 04:37. Nothing to apologise for angel. Just you let me flirt with you. Make you blush as much as I imagine you are right now ;) gonna have to say night Cas. Sammy’s up from a nightmare. See you angel x_ **

**_To: Dean. 04:38. Goodnight night Dean x_ **

Cas sighs happily. Dean was flirting with him openly and Castiel was enjoying it. He relaxes back into the bed and smiles to himself. He hadn't felt this way in ages; and he’d missed it. The characters in his novels always found true love. They were always happy. Hopefully it was Castiel’s turn.

~~~~~~

Dean walks into the body shop the next day with an unusually large smile. It attracts the attention of Benny Latiffe who hasn't seen Dean smile that wide since Sammy got into Stanford. He falls into step beside Dean and copies the smile. “The hells gotten into you?” “I met someone.” Benny stops dead, grabbing Dean’s arm and yanking him back. “ _The_  Dean Winchester met someone?! Who is this wonderful being?!” Dean chuckles, shaking his arm free and grabbing his tool box. He had been working on a ’59 Camaro with a broken alternator and a busted door. Loved it almost as much as his baby. “Oh shut up Benny. I've met people before. Whys it such a surprise?” He asks, popping the hood and yanking off his flannel shirt. He was not going to ruin that in oil grease and spilt beer. Benny chuckles and leans on the side of the car. “No. You have hook ups. Never once have to ever ‘met’ someone.” Dean rolls his eyes at his friend, grabbing the torch and hanging it up so he can see. “Yeah but why say it like its such a surprise? Everyone meets someone eventually.” “Okay. Fine. You met someone. What's her name?” “He.” “What?” “His name. It's a guy.” Dean should feel awkward about explaining it that way, or even for being bisexual in the first place since truth be told, that wasn't a done thing in his family. And yet, he said it with a smile. “I'm bi Benny. Guys name is Castiel. You know that author Sammy’s always raving on about?” “Yeah. It's him?” “The one and only.”

Dean rummages around in the tool box for a spanner as Benny lets out a whistle. “That kids got some good taste though.” He muses, chuckling when he picks the spanner from the top of the box. Dean offers a sheepish look before taking it, sleeves rolling up as he leans back over the car. And yeah, the kid did have good taste. And Dean supposes he should thank him for ever introducing them. Or at least, for dragging him along to that damned signing. Benny sighs and leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, tell me about him. How did you meet this guy?” Dean pauses. Now that he thinks about it, it wasn't exactly the most romantic or even friendly meeting he's had. He met Benny in high school on the field after he tackled him, taught the kid that he was captain. Benny had only laughed and shook his hand. _‘Benny Latiffe. Nice to meet you princess.’_ Dean chuckles at the memory and moves the lamp. “Well, he spilt his coffee all over me.”

He notices the moment that Benny processes the information. “Sorry, he spilt his coffee over you?” “Yup. Roastin’ hot cup. Ruined my good shirt.” Benny frowns, turning to watch him as he works. “So, he spills his coffee on you and what?” Dean laughs. “I smacked him with a door next. At the coffee shop. Not in retaliation or anything but you know.” “He spills coffee on you and you hit him with a door. This, this sounds perfect.” Benny chuckles, handing Dean the wrench he's fumbling to grab. “Yeah. Well I didn't meet him properly until the cinema last night. He dropped his scarf and I gave it back. We did actually have a proper conversation with each other then. And maybe swapped numbers.” He mumbles the last part, a blush rising on his chest. Benny leans down beside him and smirks. “You gave out your number?” “Yeah. We texted…flirted I guess…then I said goodnight.” “The hell did you say goodnight for? I know first hand you can last until at least five.” “Sammy had a nightmare. Same one as always.” “You being attacked by those dogs? What is it he calls them?” “Hell hounds. Yeah, that one. Took me nearly two hours to calm him down and convince him I was okay.” Benny slaps him on the shoulder, “Sorry about that darlin’.” “Benny! You definitely look like you're working on that truck parked out front.” Both men look up to see Bobby walking towards them. “Hey Bobby. Just catching up with Dean. He _met_ someone.” “Ha. Like Dean would ever meet someone. Boy’s had more lovers than I've had cars.” Dean stares at him. “What the hell? I've not had that many!” He shifts when both men give him a look. “Okay shut up. Look, his name’s Cas. He's an author. The one Sam’s always on about.” “You met him? Seriously? How the fuck-“ “Spilled coffee and doors in the face.” Benny supplies. Dean rolls his eyes and returns to the car.

“Idjit. Benny, that couples wanting their truck back tomorrow. So beat it.” Benny slaps Dean on the back again and saunters off. “Be careful next time princess!” “Fuck off!” Dean sighs and straightens up, grabbing a tag from beside him wiping down the grease on his hands. “Sorry Bobby. Alternators nearly fixed. Door will hopefully be done by tomorrow night. I've got a few problems in baby. Mind if I bring her in?” “Nah go ahead. Know I can't pay you for that though right?” Dean nods. “Fixed her up enough times. It's fine.” Bobby nods and walks off. Dean sighs, rubbing a hand across his face and wandering over to the mini fridge and grabbing a beer. He'd been working in Bobby’s auto shop since he could walk, or at least touch a car. He'd fixed up baby more times than he could count since he get her off of John. The carving where Dean and Sam had carved their initials onto the dashboard. He smiles at the memory, popping the cap open on his beer in time for his phone to go. “Hey Sammy. How you feeling buddy?” “Hey De. I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to freak that much…” “Nah, Sammy it's okay. I'd freak if I had that dream too. How you feeling? You coming down to meet me today?” “Maybe. Did you take lunch with you?” “Nah. Figured I'd head to the diner at the end of the street.” “Okay. Meet you there?” “Yeah. Love you De.” “You too Sammy. Bye.”

Dean’s back at the car in time for a knock at the door. He bends back down over the car, knowing Bobby’d be there first. He sighs and grabs the spare alternator part beside him, shifting the slip it in over the pole. “Go in you bastard.” He mutters, hissing when his fingers slip. He pushes harder, stupidly trying to shove the engine out of the way. “Ha! Finally! Thought you could beat me?!” He chuckles when it slips into place. “Well, I'm certainly enjoying this view.” Dean pauses in his triumph, looking back over his shoulder at the rather smug looking black haired man behind him. “Oh really? I thought you didn't know how to flirt Cas.” He chuckles, straightening up much to the other man's dismay. “Until I saw your ass like that. Then it just came naturally.” Dean quirks an eyebrow and leans back on the car. “What you doing here?” “Car needs fixed and Bobby said you're the best guy for the job. Apparently you're exceptional with your hands.” Dean has to chuckle at this, unconsciously rubbing his hands together. “So they say. I'm sure I could give you a first hand example. If you'd like.” He relishes in the blush that arises on Castiel’s cheeks, and the stuttered breathing. “M-Maybe later…Can you look at my car?” “Of course. Lead the way.”


	5. Chapter Five

Castiel blinks in surprise when the bearded man with a dusty skip cap on his head recommends Castiel finds Dean, the best in the auto shop. He smiles at the man and shakes his hand, turning in the direction he was given. And if he believed he was surprised before, he's exceptionally surprised when he spots Dean ass up over the car. He stops a few feet away and admired the view, watching as he slams his fist into some engine piece that Castiel will never know the name of. He is not a car man. He waits until he hears the cheer as Dean fixed whatever the hell it is. “Well, I'm certainly enjoying this view.” The words are out of his mouth before he has a chance to stop them, and he’s positive that Dean is going to laugh at how stupid he sounds, but then Dean’s ass stops wiggling in the air and he begins to debate that. He can see the small blush on the back of Dean’s neck and takes joy in it. The man doesn't straighten, head turning to look at him over the shoulder. “Oh really? I thought you didn't know how to flirt Cas.” Cas frowns as the man stands up, his shirt falling down to cover his ass. “Until I saw your ass like that. Then it just came naturally.” “What are you doing here?” “Car needs fixed,” he gestures over to a black mustang parked outside. “And Bobby said you're the best guy for the job. Apparently you're exceptional with your hands.”

Castiel’s eyes are drawn towards Dean’s greasy, calloused hands which he’s rubbing together. He never thought it would be that difficult to take his eyes off of someone hands but somehow, with Dean, it's as though he's transfixed by diamonds. “So they say. I'm sure I could give you a first hand example. If you'd like.” Castiel’s eyes snap up to meet Dean’s, already knowing that he's about to resemble a tomato. He stares in shock, trying to read the man's expression but all that seems to do, when Dean smirks, is make his breath catch in his throat and almost splutter out a ‘please god. Yes.’ at him. After he forces himself to look away from the crystal green eyes, he stutters out a “M-Maybe later…Can you look at my car?” does he realise that he's just said yes to Dean touching him. Cas doesn't even touch himself let alone let anyone else. But Dean just smiles and holds out a hand. “Of course. Lead the way.”

Castiel leads Dean towards the car, biting his lip in an attempt to calm down a little. “So what's up with your car?” “Oh, no, I don't drive. This is Gabriel's. I would never drive something like this. I prefer the classics.” Dean rises to look at Cas straight on. Cas frowns when the man's lips turn up into a smile. “The classics?” Cas nods. “Y-Yeah...Like a Chevy, or Beetle. You know, old fashioned?” He mumbles, glancing up at him. “I like old fashioned things. My house has record players and a juke box.” Dean seems to smile wider, almost matching Castiel's own. “God. This just gets better and better. I drive a Chevy. Sixty-seven Chevy impala.” Castiel watches the proud look on Dean’s face, the way he straightens up a little. “You do? Can I see?” “Yeah. Just let me check out your car. What's up with it?” Cas laughs and frowns. “I have no clue. Gabriel said there was something wrong with the…the thing in the um…the engine?”

  
Dean stares at him in disbelief. “The thing in the engine? Well, I know exactly what it is.” Cas blinks in surprise and grins. “You do?! What?” He knows that it's a stupid idea to think that Dean actually understood what he said, but considering how good he is with cars, maybe he does. But then Dean laughs. “No, I have not a clue Cas.” Cas can't help but laugh when Dean does, covering his mouth as he does so. He slaps Dean’s arm. “Shut up! I'm shit with cars!” “I noticed. Alright, I'm gonna pop the hood. When I said, start the engine alright?” Cas nods and slips into the front seat, watching Dean as he pops the hood. A hand comes around the side, thumb up in the air. He turns the key, wincing when he hears a loud pop. Scrambling to turn off the engine he climbs out the car. “What the bell was that?” “Your belts worn.” Dean explains, coughing slightly. “Easy fix. Should have it done by this evening.”  
Cas stares at him in surprise. “You can fix that in two hours? Dean, that sounded horrible!” “Hey, I'm exceptionally good with my hands.” Cas shakes his head in disbelief, shoving his hands in his pockets. “How much do I owe you?” “Nothin’. I'll do it for free. On one condition.” Cas frowns, biting his lip. “What's that?...” “You bring coffee and pie when you come to get her.” Cas blinks but smiles. “Happily. See you soon Dean.” In a moment of confidence, he leans up and plants a kiss on Dean’s cheek before turning and walking away, making sure there's a small sway in his hips.

  
~~~~~~

Castiel pushes open the café door, shivering when he's hit with a wall of heat, the cold air from outside dissipating. He shucks off his jacket and scarf, slipping into his usual booth beside the window. Pulling out his phone, he quickly texts Gabriel about the car before sinking back and looking up at the counter. He bites his lip, smiling when he spots the ginger haired woman. “Charlie!” “Cassy!” Charlie walks over with her pen and booklet in hand. “How you doing?” She asks, slipping into t he seat across from him. “Oh! No wait! Let me take my break first. Usual?” Cas nods and sits back as Charlie runs off to get her coffee, and Castiel’s fruit tea before slipping into the seat again. “Sorry. So, how are you?” “Fabulous Char. Fabulous. I think I've met someone.” He's thankful that he never lifted his tea when a hand slaps across his arm. “You did!’ Cas! Tell!!”

  
Cas sips the tea and sighs. “There's not a lot to tell at the moment Char. Remember asshole guy?” Charlie adopts a small smile as she sips her coffee. “Yeah. It's him??” Cas nods and blushes, looking down at his hands. “Yeah...His names Dean. He's a mechanic. He's working on Gabriel's car just now.” He glances out of the window, frowning when he sees a man walk past in a leather jacket, his hair flicked up in a quiff. He sighs when the man turns around. Brown eyes. He looks up at Charlie. “Sorry, what?” “I said, what changed?” “He gave me my scarf back. And I got his number.” He pulls out his phone and offers it to her, knowing Charlie will have a moment over the conversation. “Cas! You do know how to flirt!” She laughs, nudging his foot. “This is adorable.” Cas accepts the phone back and swallows his tea. “Shut up. I like to watch him flirting. It's cute.” Castiel sighs and glances at his watch. “I still have an hour left before I go back.” “Bloody hell Cas. Are you that attached already?” She asks. Cas nods. “I suppose. I don't know Char. It's…He's different. Funny. I enjoy talking to him. And he seems to enjoy the oldies too.” “Oh, and that's a necessity for you right?” Cas nods and smiles widely. “He drives a sixty-seven Chevy impala! He's going to show me it when I go back.”

  
Charlie smiles, taking his hand. “So, you gonna ask him out or what?” Cas blanches, shaking his head. “No! No, god no.” The thought of it makes his hands shake. Castiel was not the one who asked, he never had the confidence for that. He'd once asked out a boy from middle school, had stuttered his way through the question after they had flirted for a month or so. Until it blew up in his face. For the boy to turn around and say he wasn't gay, laugh in Castiel’s face and walk off. Safe to say, Castiel felt heartbroken. And no amount of horrible jokes and noodles from Gabriel could cheer him up. “C’mon Cas, it's been years. And this guy told you he was bi. Don't you think it's worth a shot?” Charlie soothes, squeezing his hand. Cas shakes his head, sipping down the rest of his tea. “No…Not get. I can't Char. I like this guy. And if he was to say no then…” Charlie nods at that, smiling softly. “Okay.” Cas sniffles and wipes his eyes, clearing his throat. “Sorry. How's it going on your end?”

  
Charlie sighs, sitting back and brushing away a crumb on the table. “I don't know. There's this girl that comes in every few days, Jo I think. She's cute. Blonde hair, sassy, hot.” Cas chuckles. “Sassy? Sounds like your perfect girl.” Charlie laughs, shaking her head. “I don't know. I get the feeling she's gay but I don't know. And I don't know how to ask her. You know?” Cas nods. “Yeah. How about we brain storm?” Charlie grins. “Yes. Knew I was friends with you for a reason.” “Okay. But I'm gonna need more tea. And some apple pie.”

~~~~~~

  
Cas places the tub of pie beside the cups of coffee in the auto shop. “Dean? I got the pie!” He shouts, looking around the quiet building. Surely he wasn't late. Dean wouldn't have told him to come at this time of the shop would be closed. He sighs and tugs his burgundy jumper right around himself as he walks through the doorway. “Bobby? Anyone here?” Cas sighs and walks back towards the coffee again. He picks it up just as he hears a voice. “Winchester shut up!” He frowns at the twang in the voice, turning to look at the dark doorway at the back of the room. “What the hell for? I'm telling the truth! I can sing!” That was Dean. Definitely. Cas could tell from the slight Texan accent in his voice. “Bullshit. Prove it.” Cas assumes from where he's standing that neither men can see him, both now being in the same room as him, directly under a hanging light. He watches Dean roll his eyes, straighten himself up. Just as his voice begins to sound, Benny bends over in hysterics, a hand gripping at Dean’s shirt to hold himself up. “Hey! I'm trying to be serious here!” Dean chortles, looking down at his friend. Castiel stifles a few laughs of his own and watches them again. He wants to know if Dean truly can sing.

  
Benny straightens himself up and clears his throat. “Okay. Okay. Sorry. Please, go on.” Dean huffs and shoves him off. “Fuck you.” “No! Dean, c’mon man! Sing.” Cas bites his lip, almost stepping out of the shadows in anticipation. He closes his eyes and sinks back on the wall. “ Alright fine. But you laugh and I punch you. ‘Kay?” “Cross my heart.” Dean shifts his feet and sighs, closing his eyes. “You can shake an apple off an apple tree, shake-a shake sugar but you'll never shake me, uh-uh-uh, no sir-ee uh-uh. I'm gonna stick like glue, stick because I'm stuck onto you.” Cas stares at the man now sucking in a breath, one eye opening as he looks at his friend. “Fuck.” Is all Benny announces, slapping his shoulder. “You weren't joking.” Cas lets out a snicker and slaps a hand over his mouth. “The hell was that?” Dean’s eyes drift around the room before they stop on the dark corner. “Cas?”

  
“You know, you should stop hiding those exceptional talents from me Dean.” Cas announces, trying to pass off the shock of being found, and also the fucking voice from that man. Dean reacts as he hopes; chuckling and raising that constant eyebrow on him. “Castiel. You asking me to share?” “Depends on what your offering.” “Oh I got a lot.” Dean chuckles. Cas blushes and shakes his head before looking at the other man. “Castiel Novak.” He offers, smiling gently at him. “Benny Latiffe. He the Castiel you've been braggin’ on about?” Castiel notices the moment Dean’s jaw clenches tightly. “Uh, yeah. This is a Cas.” “So you've been talking about me Dean? I'm honoured.” “Oh shut up. It's Benny.” “Dude. Right beside you.” Benny mutters, slapping Dean across the arm. “So Cas, can I smell coffee?” “Oh, yeah. I only have two but I mean, you can have mine.” Benny seems to blink in surprise before Cas watches him turn to Dean and mouth something indecipherable. “Thanks Cas. Dean, I'll see you later.” “Later Benny.” “Goodbye Benny.”

  
Castiel waits until Benny’s lifted, deliberately, Dean’s coffee and vacated the room. Castiel looks back up at Dean, who has the appearance of a man caught red handed after stealing from the cookie jar. “So…” he mumbles, glancing around. Dean nods. “You uh, you wanna see your car?” “Sure.” “It's all fixed. Belts new, out some gas in the tank for you and cleaned her up.” “Dean, you didn't have to do all that.” “You're welcome anyway.” “Oh! No! Thank you Dean! Thank you so much!” Cas smiles and nudges his shoulder. Dean nods and pauses, covering Cas’ eyes. “Hold on.” Castiel gasps at the touch of Dean’s cool hand on his head, the burning feeling of the other on the small of his back as the man guides him forward. Castiel never offered up much trust, but somehow, Cas has no problem offering it to Dean Winchester.

  
“Ta-dah! Good as new.” Cas silently mourns the loss of Dean’s touch, looking down at his brother's car. “It looks almost brand new!” “You're welcome.” Dean chuckles, arm coming up to wrap around Castiel’s waist again. Castiel can't help the way his body moulds to fit into Dean’s side almost like he was made for him. Cas turns to smile up at him, hand subconsciously resting on Dean’s chest. “You're amazing.” Castiel looks back at the car once more, sighing when he realises he doesn't have a reason to see Dean again. As the thought comes to his mind, he feels a hand gently slide across his chin, a calloused finger inching up his jaw. “D-Dean?” He won't admit the way that his voice cracks when Dean tilts his head to look up with him. “What are you doing?” Dean chuckles, and suddenly he seems a lot closer than Cas originally thought. And when did all the oxygen get sucked out of the air? Castiel blinks a few times, trying to force his eyes to stay open as Dean’s lids drop half shut. “Showing you another exceptional talent.” Castiel scrambles to find that train of thought in his mind but he officially gives up once Dean’s lip press gently against his own. And oh. His lips are softer than Cas had thought, and despite the beer he drank earlier, Dean tastes particularly of cinnamon mint and somehow, leather. A perfect mixture. When Dean pulls back, Castiel’s mind is reeling. He realises his body has slumped against Dean’s, his eyes shut entirely as he lets himself catch a breath. Dean seems to be in the same position, though he’s collecting himself a lot faster.

  
Castiel runs his tongue over his lips, pleased to find Dean’s taste still there. “Cas? Cas breathe. Come back to me angel.” Dean’s voice breaks through the haze, Cas blinking and straightening himself up. “Hmm? What?” “You dazed out on me angel. You alright?” Castiel takes stock of himself. Yeah. He's fucking perfect. “God yes.” Is his reply. It seems to be the correct one, judging by how Dean laughs and kisses him again. God can he just do that all the time. “Love it that much?” Cas frowns. Did he say that out loud? “Yes. Yes. All the time.” “Tomorrow all right? Time I got you home. You're too dazed to drive.” Castiel nods and licks his lips once more. “Okay. Please. Thank you.” He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. He had to pull it together. It was only a kiss. Right?

  
~~~~~~

Dean slumps back against the door of his apartment, keys dropping to the floor. He kissed Cas. What the hell was he thinking? He'd known the guy, what? Five days? And he'd already kissed him? Fuck. Dean never did this. He met them, fucked them, left them. That's how he worked. He ever fixed up their cars for free, he never flirted unless it was at the bar or they were hot as shit, and he certainly didn't kiss them like that. He wipes a hand across his sweated brow and sighs. He had to think about this. Did he like Cas? Like he liked Lisa? Is that why everything felt heightened around him? Yeah, Cas was different. But then, so was Benny. Jo. He never had a crush on them. God. Why was this so confusing?!

  
He shoves off the floor and grunts as he walks into the kitchen, fumbling in the too bright fridge for a beer. He presses his fingers to his lips before he even takes a sip of the beer. He could still feel Cas’ lips on his own, the gentle pressure of those angelic lips that Dean wishes he's touched for longer. They tasted so sweet. Like honey. Dean sighs and pops the cap, gulping down half the bottle in one go. “Dean? What are you doing? It's like three am.” Sam grumbles from the doorway, hair ruffled from the way he's tossed and turned all night. “Sammy. Did I wake you?” “M’yeah. Everything okay?” “Yeah. Yeah, just needed a drink. How you doing tonight?” “Okay. Exhausted. It was such a long day today.” Sam mumbles, slumping beside his brother on the counter. “Every time I close my eyes I see those hellhounds and you.” Dean places his beer down and leans against Sam. “Hey, still here.” He smiles, “Here and oily, greasy and stinky.” Dean chuckles and rubs his shoulder against Sam's, the teen groaning and shoving him away. “Dude get off of me! Gross. God. You're such a jerk.” “Bitch.” Dean retorts, smirking at him.

  
Sam shoves him again and sighs. “How are you?” “Fan-fucking-tastic Sammy boy.” Dean was. He was still floating from the kiss, which was silently terrifying him. He was not a floater. “You hook up or something?” “Sam. You think so little of me. But yeah, kinda. Cas and I uh…” he pauses. He had never once been embarrassed telling Sam about his hook ups. Mainly because he likes to watch Sam squirm and blush considering Sam hasn't hooked up since middle school. Though judging from how he's doing with Jess, that might change. “You and Cas what?” Sam breaks through his reverie. “What? Oh. Yeah, we kissed.” He tries to sound as nonchalant as possible but the way Sam no longer looks tired he guesses he failed. “Wait. You kissed Cas? Castiel? Dean! How? When? Tell.” “Bloody hell, calm down! One question at a time Sammy. Damn.” Dean sighs and takes a seat at the table, taking another gulp of the beer.

  
“He came by the auto-shop to pick up his brother's car. We talked, Benny stole my coffee, I showed him the car and then, you know, we just kissed.” “Wow. How un-romantic.” Sam chuckles, “That’s it? You just kissed?” Dean nods, staring down at the bottle. “Yeah, I guess. I don't know Sam. I kissed him. He nearly passed out in my arms but what can I say? I'm a sex god.” He avoids looking up, knowing Sam’s chewing on his lip and giving him that ‘you're lying’ look. “Dean.” “What?” “You've got the look. Tell me what's up.” Dean groans. Sometimes he hates how much Sam knows him. “I don't know Sam. I'm confused. I guess. You know me, I'd normally have jumped him at the cinema but I waited. When the hell have I ever waited? When have I ever flirted for this long?” He's babbling, he knows it, but now he's started he can't stop. “And then I was standing beside him at the car and he was leaning against me and I couldn't stop myself Sam. I had to kiss him. I couldn't help myself.” Dean stops himself and looks up at Sam. His brother bites his lip and leans forward. “You like him.” He says, smiling as though he's discovered gold.

  
“That's it? I pour my heart out and you tell me I like him? Dude.” “Dean, c’mon man. It's clear. When was the last time you did all this? When was the last time you freaked?” “Lisa.” “Exactly. So shut up and accept it. You like him.” Dean frowns and finishes his beer. Maybe he did. Lisa had been his longest relationship, and if John hadn't announced they were moving, Dean was sure he'd still be with her. “What happened after?” Dean chuckles. “He was so dazed Sam. Told me he wanted to kiss all the time. I drove him home then went for a drive. That's why I'm so late. He was too far gone to even walk properly.” Dean smiles at the memory, the way he'd half carried Castiel to his car; how the man had clung to him and laughed the entire time, nuzzling into Dean’s neck at one point. “What the hell did you do to him?” “Kissed him. That's all. You'd think the guy had never been kissed before. Personally, I take it as a compliment.” “Of course you would. When you seeing him again?” “Tomorrow. Gabriel's coming for his car, Cas said he'd tag along since he has an interview afterwards.” “Alright. Cool. Well, I'm off tomorrow so don't wake me. Night Casanova.” Dean chuckles and nods. “Night Sammy.”

  
Dean watches his little brother walk back to his room before he slams his head on the table. Fuck. He liked Cas. He’ll admit that his knees wobbled a little when he kisses Cas, and his head spun. He was glad Cas leaned into him, it was the only way he could keep himself standing. And yeah, the guy tasted fucking amazing and God he could have kissed him for hours if he hadn't suddenly remembered to breathe. But then, Cas had reacted the way he did and asked for more so that had to account for something. Dean drops the beer bottle in the bin and heads towards his room. He'd shower in the morning. Falling into the bed, he yanks off his jeans and t-shirt, phone on the cabinet. He closes his eyes and tries to quieten the jumble of thoughts in his mind, only made worse when his phone pings.

  
**_From: Castiel. 3:45. I am so sorry about how I reacted when you kissed me. I've never done that before. I don't know what happened. I just lost myself I guess. I feel so stupid and embarrassed and I understand if you don't want to see me anymore._**

  
Dean frowns and sits up. It was going to be another long night.

  
**_To: Castiel. 3:45. No I do angel. Honestly, no ones ever reacted like that when I've kissed them but personally I take it as a compliment. Guess it was good._ **   
**_From: Castiel. 3:47. It was. Amazing. Thank you._ **

  
**_To: Castiel. 3:48. Dude! Don't thank me for kissing you. No one does that. It was literally my pleasure to. Listen, I don't do this often, the whole ‘dating’ thing so just…Don't expect much._ **

  
**_From: Castiel. 3:52. We’re dating?_ **

  
Fuck. Well. It was good while it lasted. Dean throws the phone down on the bed and groans. They'd literally just kissed and here he is saying they're dating. What is wrong with him? Cas hadn't even said if he was single or not. Or that he even wanted to date Dean. And now Dean’s just gone right ahead and ruined it all. He forces himself to pick up the phone as another text comes through.

  
**_From: Castiel. 3:56. Because I mean, I'd love it if we were. You know. Together. I mean._ **

  
Oh. Oh. Dean blinks and holds in the whoop he’s about to let out in fear of raising the Sam monster again.

  
**_To: Castiel. 3:57. You would? So, you don't think it's too soon or anything?_ **

  
**_From: Castiel. 3:59. No. It's definitely too soon. But better sooner than I later I believe. So what are we? What can I call you? My boyfriend?_ **

  
Dean chews on his lip and fiddled with the keypad. Boyfriend? Dean had never had one. Yeah he's been with guys, but he's never dated them. It would be like dating a girl, just, with a dick and deep ass voice that makes him want to listen to it all day long. Right?

  
**_To: Castiel. 4:01. Yeah Cas. Boyfriends._ **

  
~~~~~~

Castiel hums as Dean walks him up to his front door. He's regained most of his bodily functions though his mind is still stuck in ‘oh my god he kissed me’ land. He's sane enough to fumble with his keys to open the door, and shout for his brother. “Cassy? What's up?” Gabriel appears around the corner, looking at him confused as he takes in the view; Dean’s arm wrapped around his little brother's waist, Cas with a perpetual blush. “Hey Gabe. I was just dropping Cas off. He's uh, a little dazed. Didn't want him to drive.” “Thank Dean. Take it the cars still at the shop?” “Yeah. Come get it tomorrow. I'm in all day.” “Alright. Thanks.” “No problem. Bye angel.” Castiel looks up at him and grins. “Bye Dean.” He sighs happily and leans into his brother as both men watch Dean climb back into his car and drive off.

  
“Alright, spill it. What's got you all loopy?” “He kissed me Gabe.” Castiel smiles even wider, if that's even possible at this point, and sinks down on the couch. “He sang and showed me your car, which looks brand new by the way, and then he kissed me.” He gets that look off of Gabriel that says and? And he knows he has to explain more. He settles himself on the couch and pulls his knees up to his chest. “Okay. He was singing to his friend Benny, and I overheard. I teased him and we flirted a lot about…stuff.” He coughs and glances over. “Anyway, he covered my eyes when we were walking to the car, and he was holding me but…I don't know Gabriel. He lifted my head and kissed me and-” He cuts himself off and sighs. How could he possibly explain what happened to Gabriel? There weren't any words. And Castiel was like a thesaurus. He never ran out of words. “It was indescribable.” He decides go for, looking up at Gabriel. “I don't know to explain it Gabe. It was so good and I've never felt that before and god, I want to feel it again. What's happening to me?”

  
He doesn't often ask Gabriel for advice, but considering the turmoil he's currently feeling inside himself, he could use some brotherly advice. He watches the cogs turning in his head, lip worried between his teeth. “Gabriel?” “Hang on. I'm thinking.” Castiel sighs and closes his eyes, head tipping back. He catches his breath enough to clear his head, taking stock of the situation and his reaction. “Oh god.” He slaps a hand across his eyes and grunts. “Gabe what the hell is wrong with me? I acted like a complete freak! Who the hell gets like that after being kissed? God. I'm such an idiot.” “Hey, calm down brother.” Castiel looks up at him thoroughly offended when his brother laughs. “Gabriel this isn't a laughing matter here! I finally meet a guy I like and might even like me back and I act like that! What's he going to think of me now?”

  
He's pacing now, chewing on his bitten fingernails and tugging at his shirt. The arm has a smudge of grease on it. Dean was going to think he was a freak. He had practically threw himself at him after the kiss.. He'd probably think that he's never been kissed before. He groans and threads a finger in his hair, tugging harshly. "Woah! Cas! Cas stop!" Gabriel untangles the limbs from Castiel's hair and pins them by his side. Cas grunts and looks up at him. "What the hell is wrong with me today. I'm so, so…discombobulated!" He's rather proud of his use of the word. "Cas, what did you just tell me? Think about it." "I said I've finally met someone I like and might like me back but-oh." "Yeah Cas. You like him. That’s whats 'wrong' with you. You've got a crush." "I have a crush. I'm a twenty-three year old man with a fucking crush." Gabriel chuckles and plops back down on the sofa. "Yup. Feels like your five again right?" Castiel nods and falls down beside him once more. "Fuck Dean Winchester with his green eyes and his stupid voice and ugh." "Well, you do want to fuck him so…" "Gabriel! I'm going to bed." "Have a nice wet dream buddy!" "I hate you." "Love you too."

  
Cas shoves his door closed and sighs. He liked Dean. Great. Wonderful. Demented. It wasn't possibly to fall in love with someone when you’ve only known them a few days. And he wasn’t even sure if the feelings would be reciprocated. But then, Dean had been the one to kiss him so, surely he must? Despite the time, and the heaviness in his eyelids, Castiel sits down in his window seat and pulls out his phone.

~~~~~~

  
Dean was never nervous at work. His hands never shook, his breathing was never shallow, and he certainly never stumbled over words. And yet, he'd fucked up his usual coffee order, stuttered his way through a client meeting and now, bent over his beloved Chevy, his hand was shaking so hard the spanner was about to fall. He stands back up and flings the spanner to the side. "Fuck it. I'll come back to you." He mutters and he knows it's odd to talk to an inanimate object, but his Baby was not just a car. It had been Dean and Sam's home for a long as he could remember. They had slept cramped in the back seat, fought over who was sitting shotgun on the longer drives, and both had more than a few one night stands in her.

  
"Dean! What the hell you doing with this car?" Dean looks up to catch Benny's eye. He's trailing his fingers along the metal. "Getting pissed off. I don’t know what's happening to me man." He mutters. "Can't settle." He smacks his lips together and looks up. "Cas and I are dating." Benny's hand pauses. "What?" "We're dating. Last night. Well, three am." Benny shakes his head and sidles up to him. "Try that again." "What? Dude we're dating. What else do you want me to say? We kissed. We made It official." He chuckles, throwing his hands in the air. "Congrats man. You told Sammy yet?" He asks. "Fuck. No I haven't. He didn’t want me to wake him. I'll tell him later." "So, we going out to celebrate?"

  
"What are we celebrating?" Both men look up at the voice, Dean's face instantly breaking out in a grin that he wouldn't have been able to stop if he even tried. "My meeting an angel." He replies, watching the blush he's come to enjoy rising on his boyfriends cheeks. He pauses. Cas was his boyfriend. Pushing off of the car, Dean walks over and pulls the man into a gentle kiss. Castiel melts as he did before, and Dean's beginning to love the feeling. "Hi," he whispers once they've parted. Castiel smiles and soaks in the feeling. "Hi." Dean wants to say something else, anything but the way that Castiel looks this morning - eyes wide open behind his runner glasses, and lips seeming swollen - he can't bring himself to do anything but watch him. "Yo. Earth to Dean." "Hmm? What?" Dean looks up as Benny begins to laugh, Gabriel shaking his head behind Castiel. "Nothing man. I'll see you later yeah? Nice seeing you again Cas." Dean waves him off and sighs before he realises Cas is still pressed into his side. He decides he likes the feeling. "So, here for the car?" He asks, settling his hand tighter on Cas' hip. "Yeah. Castiel said it looks good as new."

  
"Well I'd like to hope so. It's just through there." Walking with Castiel under his arm feels natural as he walks through the building. The added bonus being that Cas doesn’t stumble once just makes Dean feel a little better. "Bloody hell Dean. This looks fabulous. What the hell did you do to it?" Cas chuckles, head tilting to lay on Dean's shoulder. Dean decides he loves the height difference. "New belt, some gas, and cleaned her up." Turning his head, Dean rests it on top of Castiel's as they watch Gabriel walk over to the car.  
"You free tonight?" He directs his attention down to Castiel, watching the man fiddle with the amulet around his neck. "Perhaps. Why?" He asks, looking up. Dean can't help stealing another kiss. Exactly like Cas, he could do this all day. "Lets go on a date. A movie? Dinner?" He notes the flash of excitement in Castiel's eyes. "A movie. Old fashioned. I like it." Dean nods. "Of course. How about I come pick you up at seven?" Castiel laughs and shakes his head. "No, half seven. If we're doing this, I want to look exceptional for you. Otherwise, what kind of boyfriend am I?" Dean blinks and laughs, kissing him. "I knew there was a reason I liked you." "I hope that’s not the only reason." "Oh it's definitely not. Know what I like more?" "What's that?" "This." Dean lifts Cas' head again and presses their lips together. He feels Castiel smile against his own and chuckles, both arms coming up to wrap around him. He knows they should stop considering Gabriel, but when he feels Castiel's hands on his chest, he knows he won't be able to. He waits until Cas sucks in a breath before he lets his tongue dart forward over the man's lips. He chuckles when he feels the other man shiver against him, his lips parting enough to let Dean's lip slip through. Both men moan at the feeling, Castiel leaning up on his toes to get a better angle. Dean backs him up against the desk and settles between Cas' legs. Castiel moans again, hand slipping down to tangle in Dean's shirt. Dean chuckles and breaks off, watching his boyfriend such in a deep breath, eyes glazing over as he focuses on Dean's face. "Y-You stopped?" He breathes, frowning up at him. "I'm letting you breathe babe. Wouldn't want you to pass out." He's entirely surprised when Cas laughs and tangles his fingers in Dean's hair. "You need to breathe? That’s very amateur of you." He announces as he pulls Dean down with unexpected strength, crushing their lips together. And if Dean topples forward a little, he's not going to admit that. Instead, he presses harder against him, knowing that Castiel's lips are going to be swollen by the time he's finished. But then Cas tugs on his hair and Dean loses it, moaning loudly and pulling the man closer.

  
Judging by the high pitched whimper Cas lets out, he's enjoying it just a much. Cas pulls back a few minutes later, eyes closed as he pants for breath, leaning his head on Dean's chest. "Fuck..I've never done this before.." he mumbles, fist clenching once more in Dean's hair. Dean chuckles and takes to kissing along Cas' jaw. "Cmon, tell me I took your breath away." He earns a chuckle and a half-assed swat. "I would, but I don’t want to inflate your ego much more." "Ooh, ouch. You hurt my ego there." He's moved further down, kissing along the slicer of skin showing above Castiel's shirt, noting the shiver running through the man. Cas moans again and pushes him back. "Not now. Not yet." He smiles, kissing him gently. Dean sighs but nods. As much as he'd love to mark up the tanned, smooth skin he knows now isn't the time.

  
Once he's pulled back again, Castiel pouts up at him. "I don’t need to breathe." He mumbles, trying desperately to pull Dean back down. "I know angel, but we're scared your brother off. And we both have work to do." "Can't it wait? I'm a best seller. I'm sure they'll wait a few extra minutes, especially if I explain that I was too busy making out with you." "As wonderful as that excuse is babe, I have a car due for this afternoon." Castiel groans and tips his head forward. "Dammit. I suppose I'll wait until this evening." Dean chuckles and kisses him again. "To tide you over." Dean relaxes at the little smile that encompasses Cas' face, his eyes closing slowly. "Okay." He whispers, eyes opening once more to look up. "I should go find Gabriel. Don’t be late tonight Dean. I like my gentleman on time." Dean chuckles at that he shakes his head. "Oh love, I'm no gentleman." "Good."


	6. Chapter Six

Cas frowns and stares at the mirror in front of him. After three hours and multiple outfit changes, he was standing in black pant suits, a light blue button down and brown leather shoes. He was now trying to figure out what to do with his hair, trying to flatten down his perpetual sex hair. Dean had told him before he left the auto-shop that his hair always that looked that crazy. After Castiel had blushed like a tomato and covered his hair, Dean had informed him that he loved it. He was still strung on the fact that such an amazing man had asked him out on a date. Which, granted they should have done before they made it official. Not that Castiel minded, considering most of his dates never went very well. The one good date he can think of was with a boy from 10th grade. They held hands in a park, kissed under the oak tree before the boy had thrown up the milkshake they'd had earlier. He still saw it as a good night.

He grabs his trusty trench coat and heads out of the room, stopping by Gabriel's office to check in. "Hey. How do I look?" He does a little twirl, a nervous smile on his face. Gabriel's head lifts from the laptop he's typing away on, cocking an eyebrow. "Like you're going to a book signing." Castiel sighs and drops his arms in defeat. "Gabe he'll be here in a couple minutes!" He whines, looking over at him. "I don’t have time to change and I've already changed about ten times." Gabriel sighs and walks around his desk. He pulls off Cas' tie and loosens the top three buttons before untucking it from his pants. He steps back and nods. "You're ready. Go have fun. And be home by eleven!" "Sure mom!" Cas shouts back, heading back into the living room to grab his keys.

As he's checking his reflection once more in the mirror, the door goes. Castiel has to stop himself from running over to the door, hand pausing before he slowly opens the door. "Dean." He smiles, eying the bunch of roses the man's holding. He cocks his head. "Roses? I was expecting beer or a car part." "Ah, but that’s not very classical is it? It'd ruin the entire mood of the night." Cas smiles and leans up to kiss him. "Very true. Thank you." He plops the roses down in a vase, smelling them. "Did you spray these with your cologne?" He asks, looking back at the man. Dean chuckles and nods. "Yeah. Figured since roses don’t smell, I'd give them one." Cas hums and tugs on his jacket. "Oh, Hun you don’t need that. You're gonna be roasting." If it wasn’t for the innocent smile plastered on his face, Castiel would assume he meant something else. "Okay. Bye Gabriel! I'll see you later!" "He'll see you tomorrow!" Dean shouts over him, looping his arm around his waist. Cas' stomach flips as he looks over at him. "T-Tomorrow?" Dean nods. "Yeah. You got a problem with that?" Cas quickly shakes his head, shutting the door behind him. "Nope. No problem."

Castiel follows him down to the car, shaking his head when Dean opens the door for him. He slips in, gasping when he sinks into the plush leather of the seat. "Okay. I'm officially in love with your car." "Hey, hands off. She's mine." Cas pouts and looks over at him. "Can't we share? She's so pretty." "Well so are you angel but I'd rather not share you either." Castiel blinks and nods. "O-Oh. Y-You…" Dean chuckles and starts the car. "Breathe angel. Don’t pass out on me just yet." Cas chokes back a noise and nods. "Okay." He crosses his legs before frowning and straightening them out. He glances at Dean and bites his lip as he shifts again. "Cas, angel, stop fidgeting. We're nearly there." "Nearly where?" "Ah, shh. And feast your eyes." Castiel turns and looks out the front window, gasping as he eyes the lines of cars, all facing a large white screen at the end of the lot. "Oh my god! Dean I've never been to one of these before! I've always wanted to come here. How did you know?" "You said you like the oldies. What's better than a drive in movie?" He chuckles, pulling into a free spot.

Castiel bounces in his seat, looking around. There were people in the back of trucks, sitting on the hood of the car or in the front seat. He bites his lip and turns to face Dean. "Dean I can’t believe you’ve done this. I'm-I don't know what to say." Dean chuckles and reaches into the back seat. "Out. C'mon. You didn't think that this was all I'd done did you?" Castiel smiles in excitement and climbs out of the car. He watches Dean spread a cover across the hood, frowning when he comes back around with a basket. "Food?" Dean nods and points at the stand on the opposite end of the lot. "Wanna go get us a couple hot dogs?" Cas chuckles and nods, quickly turning and weaving through the cars. He digs in his pockets and lines up in the queue. "Hey! Aren't you Castiel Novak?!" Cas winces at the shout, ear ringing as he glances over at the man. He smiles slightly and nods. "Y-Yeah. Are you a fan?" "Yes! I have read every single one of your books! Can I get your autograph?" "Of course. I'm glad you enjoy my books." He smiles apologetically at the other people in the queue, quickly signing his name in the man's convenient book. "I do! You’ve inspired me to write myself." Castiel smiles at the man. "Good. Send me a copy of your writing when you're done. I'd love to read it." Castiel turns away as the man seems to have a moment, informing the clerk that he'd like two hot dogs and two cokes. As he returns, Dean is laying himself out on top of the blankets. He instantly sits up, accepting the food off of Cas as he climbs up onto the hood beside him. "What's the movie by the way?" He asks, taking his hot dog back. "A musical genius known as-" "Grease!" Cas laughs along with Dean, blushing. He was a fan of musicals too. And there was no doubt that he was going to sing along. "Alright. Well I guess you like it."

Castiel nods, sipping his coke. "Yes! I used to watch it all the time with my father when he wasn’t working. We would always sing along and do the dances." "When he was free?" "Yes. He was an author like me, but he spent most of his time in his office. I never knew what he did in there. We were never allowed in the office." He frowns and looks away, concentrating intensely on his hot dog. His father was an amazing man, amazing but absent. "My mother was extremely religious. That’s why my brother and sister are named after angels. Michael, lucifer, Gabriel, Anna and myself. She believed children were to be seen, not heard. I never liked her much. I was closer to my father." He looks over at Dean and sighs. "I'm sorry. This is a date and I'm prattling on about my family." "Hey, no. That’s alright. I had a hard life too." "You did?" Dean didn't strike Cas as someone who'd had a rough life. He was confident, strong, funny. Castiel was shy, and nervous, and all together terrified. "Yeah. Never stayed in the same place twice. My mom died when I was four in a fire. My dad handed me Sammy, he was only six months, and told me to run. He tried to save her but…He was too late." Castiel gasps and moves a little closer, laying a hand on Dean's arm. "I'm so sorry Dean." He whispers, "What happened after?…" Castiel didn’t want to push it, but somehow he knew Dean wanted to talk about it. "We moved a lot. Never stayed somewhere more than a month. Dad was running credit card scams. Came home drunk every night. He and Sammy never got on. But I took the brunt of my dads anger." Castiel blinks and leans back, looking up at the man. He could see the shimmer of tears in Dean's eyes. "He beat you? Dean I'm…I…" "Nah. Its alright. To save Sammy, I'd do it again." Castiel smiles slightly, leaning back into him. "You didn't deserve that Dean. He was an asshole." He hears Dean chuckle quietly and a kiss to his head. "Yeah. He was."  
Castiel slips his hand down, linking his fingers with Dean's. He squeezes gently and looks up. He smiles when Dean looks back at him, leaning down to kiss him. "Thank you Cas." Castiel pulls back and shakes his head, putting a hand over Dean's mouth. "No. Thank you. Tonight is perfect." Dean chuckles. "It's only half eight Cas. Nights barely started." "And? It's still perfect. Oh! Shh! Look!" He's pointing at the screen now, watching as it begins to light up, reel beginning to play. He pulls his knees up to his chest, coke and hot dog entirely forgotten. He glances over at Dean and grins widely. "You better sing along Winchester. Or you're losing points." Castiel takes his hand again, subconsciously wrapping it around his shoulder, slotting into Dean's side. "Try and stop me Novak." Castiel grins and turns to the screen. A perfect night. With a perfect man.

~~~~~

Dean grunts as he shifts on the hood, slipping down it on the blanket and trying to hold Castiel up in the process. He doesn't want to wake the man, considering how peaceful he looks curled against Dean's side, with his hand resting on Dean's chest. His hand slips on the freshly waxed hood; Dean keeps his car meticulously clean before he catches himself just before they both go tumbling to the floor. Dean didn’t really mind that Castiel had fallen asleep before they were even halfway through the movie, he was comfortable laying on his car with his boyfriend against his side. Castiel was cold, which for Dean who always ran warm almost like a portable radiator was a pleasant experience. He knew he would have to wake Cas since the movie was on its last ten minutes and he did not want to be stuck in the car park for another hour trying to get out. He taps the man's hip, shifting his head in a rather unattractive manner to look down at him. "Cas? Baby you need to wake up." He knows from experience with his man-child of a brother that abrupt wake ups are a horrible idea. The black eye he’d gotten just furthered that point. "C'mon angel. Wake up, we've got to go in a little bit. Movies ending." He watches as Castiel slowly wakes, hand clenching in Dean's shirt. "M'what?" His voice sounds rougher, which Dean didn’t really think was possible, but it certainly sends all the blood from his brain down south. Dean gently sits up, Castiel still against his chest. "We need to go angel, or we'll be stuck here all night. C'mon, get in the car and I'll clean up." Castiel grumbles again, slipping off of the hood and slumping his way into the car, cover wrapped around him. Dean dumps everything into the trunk, settling beside Castiel again. "Sorry I fell asleep."

"Hey, nah it’s alright. I didn’t mind." He registers the blush on Castiel's cheeks, taking the opportunity to kiss it away. "So...Are you dropping me home?…" Dean shakes his head and smirks. "Oh, I'm not with you yet babe. Not even close. Thought we'd head to mine. If that’s alright with you?" Castiel seems shell shocked, but once he peels his tongue off the roof of his mouth, he lets out a shaky "Yes." Dean catches his jaw and kisses along it. "Good. You alright with sleeping over? I don’t imagine we'll be finished tonight." Dean shifts, the dazed look on Castiel's face and the constant flicking of his tongue across his lips is really not helping the pressure straining in his jeans. "Yes. I'll stay." Dean pauses to suck in a breath, diving forward to press him lips hard against Castiel's. He knows that he should stop and let the man breathe before they get to Dean's home, but the way Castiel's hands grapple at his leather jacket, he decides he can wait a little. But then Castiel climbs into his lap and settles on his growing bulge and he can't stop the moan tearing from his throat. Judging from the small whine Cas lets out, he's in the same position as Dean. "Home…Dean drive us…Now…" Castiel whispers in his ear, a shiver running down Dean's back. He attaches their lips again, slipping Cas back onto the seat. "Breathe. You're gonna want to be awake for this." "Fuck."

-

Dean slams Castiel back against the door, the bang sounding through the apartment. Dean doesn't stop for the guided tour of his apartment, more focused on the guided tour of Castiel's mouth. The loud moan that reaches his ears tells him Castiel is more than happy to comply. Not to mention the way that Cas' hands are gripping his shirt and desperately trying to unbutton it tells Dean all he needs to know. He presses the man closer to the door, surprise himself with the growl he lets out. He draws back, Castiel sucking in a large breath. "F-Fuck…" Dean chuckles. "Not tonight angel." He cuts off Castiel's whine as he presses their lips together again, nipping Castiel's bottom lip. The man’s hips jerk forward, head tipping back to the wall as his hips roll slowly against Deans. Dean can only manage a small chuckle before he's attacking Cas' neck, kissing along it as he grip the man's hips, pinning them back against the door. It tears a wrecked moan from Cas' lips but Dean can't find it in him to care when Castiel's hands fly to his hair, tugging as he tries to move Dean's head.

"D-Dean. Dean I'm…" Dean lifts his head from the hickey he's currently sucking into Cas' neck to cup his jaw. "What babe? What do you need?" Dean's beginning to feel a little light headed himself, his brain no longer working upstairs. He relishes in the way Cas has to draw in a breath before he can squeak out a “Please.” that sends Dean’s heart pumping and cock twitching in his suddenly too tight jeans. “Fuck.” With strength he’ll never know where it comes from, he hauls Castiel up, legs around his waist, both taking a moment to suck in a breath when their jeans press hard against each other. He drops Cas down on the bed and lays over the smaller man, joining their lips together once again. Castiel reacts just as Dean hopes, arching up underneath him and rolling their hips together, whining prettily into Dean’s mouth. This time, it’s Dean who lets out a broken curse and ruts his hips forward, both men moaning loudly. Dean manages to slip a hand under Cas’ shirt somehow, trailing his fingers up Castiel’s side, the man shivering underneath him. “Dean-Dean, I’m...So good…” Dean moans in response, sucking a matching hickey on Cas’ collarbone. He ruts forward again, panting into Castiel’s ear as they slowly climb in pleasure. Cas feels amazing pressed against him, heat surging through the thick layers of their jeans, and the soft fabric of his shirt against Dean’s chest. But then there’s the softest whimpers Dean’s ever heard right in his ear, and it’s only making the need to finish grow until both men are moaning messes, breaths catching in their throats as they move. Castiel is the first to hit his high, nails scratching down Dean’s back hard enough to raise a hiss from Dean. His hips jerk, babbling incoherently in Dean’s ear as he comes down from his orgasm. “Dean! Fuck so good, so good, mm shit!” As Cas sinks back on the bed, lips swollen and hanging open, Dean growls and ruts one last time, planting another kiss on Castiel’s lips before they both collapse back on the bed. 

Cas instantly turns on his side, laying his head on Dean’s chest and humming softly. “Fuck…” He whispers, fluttering his eyes open to look up. “Fuck indeed.” Dean chuckles, chest heaving. His mind has regained enough coherence to cringe at the stickiness in his boxers, and he imagines Castiel is feeling the same. But he doesn’t have enough strength in him to pry himself away from the heat against his side to change clothes, because somehow looking down at the blue eyes makes his brain forget about it entirely and focus more on craning his neck to kiss him. Dean is surprised when Cas is the first to move, rolling off of the bed and stripping to his boxers. Sitting up, he watches amused as Castiel rifles around in his drawers, pulling out two pairs of boxers. Dean grunts when one hits him in the face. “Sorry. The stickiness is gross.” Dean blinks. This guy is perfection.   
Once they’re both changed, Cas climbs back into the bed and pulls the black duvet up over them. “You’re bed is like bricks.” He comments. Dean grunts and bounces. “Nah, feels comfy to me.” “That’s cause you’re built like a freaking soldier.” Dean struggles not the tense at the word, a thousand memories flying back into his mind. “Yeah. A soldier.” He mumbles. Sam and John had always called him it. John more in his attempt to brainwash his own son, Sam when he no longer had John to blame for their life. When Dean couldn’t do anything but tide the two over for a week or two in a puke styled motel off of the money he’d managed to pawn off of some poor unsuspecting guy at a bar, while he relentlessly searched for a job. Sam would blame Dean for his lack of comfort, because ‘You’re still dad’s little soldier Dean! He’s brainwashed you! Why are we still hiding? Why are we still running?” Cas snaps his fingers in Dean’s face, bringing him back. “Are you okay?” “Yeah. Sorry. Got lost in my head. Tired I guess. That was amazing.” Dean watches the man laugh and kiss his chest. “That it was Dean, I am impressed by your talent. I’m hoping maybe next time I get a different talent.” Dean raises his eyebrows. “Oh really? So soon? Am I that good?” The blush rises on Cas’ cheek, a hand print matching the colour appearing on Dean’s chest when Cas hits him and rolls away. “Asshole.” Dean can’t help but laugh and press up against the other man, laying a soft kiss to his shoulder. “You know it.” 

~~~~~~

Castiel wakes slowly, yawning as he stretches his hands out, back arching in a perfect curve. Of course the smile slips from his lips when he realises there’s no Dean behind him, no heat pressed against his back which he’d grown accustomed to through the night. Rolling over, he glances around the empty room and flops back on the bed. Last night. The thought brings a smile to his face. Dean took him to a drive-in movie, a date he’s wanted all his life. And then last night. Castiel sits up and steps out of the bed, lifting one of Dean’s shirts that’s hanging over his bed. The shirt slips down to below his knees, the sleeves dangling down to his fingertips. Clearly Dean is bigger than Cas. Castiel wanders around the room, stopping by Dean’s desk to look at the photos set beside the laptop. Dean and Sam when they were younger, Dean dressed up as Batman, Sam as Superman with a cast on. Castiel laughs. There’s a story behind that one. He pauses at the one beside it, a beautiful blonde woman smiling at the camera, a small boy in her arms. “Mary.” He whispers, biting his lip. So Dean was a family guy. Judging from the many photo’s scattered around the room and the few he saw in the apartment despite their haste to the bedroom. Stepping out, Castiel takes in the apartment. 

The floor to ceiling windows let in the morning sunlight, highlighting the light shade of blue on the walls. Cas slips slightly on the wood flooring, stepping onto the rug placed under the black couch and coffee table. Dean’s tv is mounted to the wall, slanting towards the couch. There’s a small dining table beside the front window, coffee mugs and papers strewn across it. Castiel isn’t surprised when he sees the guitar leaning against the wall, but sucks in a gasp when he sees the large grand piano. How musical was Dean? But then comes the kitchen, the apartment entirely open plan, the island the only thing breaking them apart. That’s where he spots Dean, dancing with a spatula up as though it’s a microphone, music playing from a small radio in the corner of the room. Stifling a laugh, Castiel slowly makes his way over and leans over the island. “Morning.” “Jesus! Shit!” Cas jumps out of the way as the spatula goes flying, Dean falling back into the cabinet behind him. Dork. “Jesus Cas! Don’t do that to me!” Dean huffs, a hand over his pounding chest as he looks up at the now struggling man trying to hold in his laughter. 

Castiel can’t hold it any longer, hand coming up to cover his mouth as he laughs. And Dean can’t help but laugh along, the tight smile gone from his face. “Sorry Dean. Didn’t know you couldn’t hear me.” Cas chortles, leaning forward to kiss Dean once the man’s collected himself and settled back in front of the stove. “You weren’t there when I woke up.” “I know. Sorry, early riser. Thought I’d make us breakfast, I was gonna give you it in bed.” Castiel’s heart flutters at the thought, not to mention the bashful way in which Dean told him. “Ah, and I have foiled your plans. How dare I.” Dean laughs, shaking his head as he flips the pancakes, moving quickly to stir the eggs scrambling beside him. “Coffee’s in the pot.” Castiel moans then, jumping around the island to grab a mug. “God, the nectar of the gods!” He cheers, holding the mug up before slowly sipping, eyes drifting shut. “Jesus, if only you loved me that much.” Castiel’s eyes come back up. “Apologies Dean. But I’m afraid that coffee is my one true love.” There’s a small smile on Dean’s lips. And Castiel doesn’t have the willpower to stop himself from walking over to kiss them. “But, I think I can make some room for you.” “You’re so kind.” “I know.” Castiel laughs, setting the mug down as Dean slowly pulls him into a kiss, arm wrapping around tight. "God. You’re just so perfect.” “Oh shut up Dean.” “Nope. I’m allowed to compliment my boyfriend.”   
Castiel shakes his head, pushes out of Dean’s arms with a smile and wanders back into the living space. “I didn’t know you could play piano.” “I can play piano, guitar, drums. Love my music.” Dean replies from the kitchen. “I can’t play anything. All I can do it write every genre.” Cas mumbles, kicking at the floor before he sits down on the couch, looking up at Dean over the back. “Don’t say it like that. Cas you’re a bestseller now.” “I know. But I just wish I had another skill. Something I could show off at parties.” “Just show your face and everyone will go mad.” “Does that line usually work for you?” “Yup. But then you’re different. Knew it wouldn’t work.” “Why say it then?” Dean chuckles and shrugs, starting to plate everything up. “Because I thought maybe you’d feel sorry for me and pretend like it was good.” Cas laughs and lifts his feet as Dean settles down beside him. “Your meal sir.” “Why thank you!” Cas lays his feet back on top of Dean’s and sighs. “Okay. Favourite music.” He says, tapping him. “Uh, classic rock. Zeppelin. AC/DC. Meatloaf.” Dean says, looking over at him. “Any rock music, that’s my favourite.” He smiles. Castiel frowns, shaking his head. “Zeppelin yeah, but I’m not that big a rock fan. Frank Sinatra, classical? Oh! Except Elvis! Elvis will always be my favourite!” Castiel takes a bite of his eggs, humming at the taste. Dean was a good cook. 

“Oh thank god! I thought I was going to have to kick you out!” Dean replies, letting out a breath, “Elvis is a deal breaker. I’m afraid I’d have to let you go if you didn’t like him.” Castiel smiles and leans forward, kissing him. “Good.” Castiel lies back, slowly eats his way through breakfast as they talk. By the time he’s done, he’s discovered Dean doesn’t read a lot, but he loves Kurt Vonnegut. He first discovered music in the first year of high school which was the only class he excelled at. Dean would give up his life for his little brother, and the story behind the photo was Dean jumped off of the top of the roof, Sam had followed and broken his arm. Dean rode him to the hospital on the handlebars of his bike. And he had decided that he most definitely liked Dean.


End file.
